->*• 


Anne  Hunter  Temple 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

UCLA  ART  COUNQL 

BY 

Estate  of 
Anne  Hunter  Temple 


THE   HOME   BOOK 
OF  GREAT  PAINTINGS 


Uiiuri,  Photo.  John  Andrew  4  Son.  So. 

MICHELANGELO  BUONAROTTI  (attributed  to  Bugiakdini) 
Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence 


THE  HOME  BOOK  OF 
GREAT  PAINTINGS 

A  COLLECTION  OF  ONE  HUNDRED  AND 
FIVE  FAMOUS  PICTURES 


• 


DESCRIBED  AND  INTERPRETED 
BY 

ESTELLE  M.  HURLL 


TUDOR  PUBLISHING  CO. 
NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT,    1899,    1900,    I90I,    AND     190^,    BY    HOLGHTON,    MIFFLIN    &    CO. 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


Ctje  i^ibcrsi&e  $)ress 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
PRINTED  IN  THE  U.S.A. 


IN  V 

M93h 


CONTENTS   AND   LIST  OF  PICTURES 


MICHELANGELO 

I.   Madonna  and  Child 1 

II.   David 7 

III.  Cupid 13 

IV.  Moses 19 

V.   The  Holy  Family 25 

VI.    The  Pieta 31 

VIL   Christ  Triumphant 37 

VIII.   The  Creation  of  Man 43 

IX.   Jeremiah 49 

X.    Daniei 55 

XI.    The  Delphic  Sibyl (51 

XII.   The  Cum.ean  Sibyl 67 

XIII.  Lorenzo  de'  Medici 73 

XIV.  Tomb  of  Giuliano  de'  Medici 79 

XV.   Central  Figures  in  the  Last  Judgment  ....  85 

All  the  above  pictures,  with  the  exception  of  the  Cupid,  from  photographs 
by  Fratelli  Alinari.  The  Cupid  photographed  from  the  statue  in  the  South 
Kensington  Museum,  London. 

TITIAN 

I.    The  Physician  Parma 1 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

II.   The  Presentation  of  the  Virgin  (Detail)    ...  7 
Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

III.    The  Empress  Isabella 13 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 


vi  CONJ'ENTS   AND   LIST  OF  PICTURES 

IV.   Madonna  and  Child  with  Saints 19 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 
V.    Philip  II 25 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

VI.   St.  Chkistopher 31 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  D.  Anderson 

VII.   Lavinia .37 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

VIII.   Christ  of  the  Tribute  Money 43 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

IX,   The  Bella 49 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

X.   Medea  and  Venus 55 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

XI.   The  Man  with  the  Glove 61 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  «fe  Co. 

XII.   The  Assumption  of  the  Virgin 67 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

XIII.  Flora 73 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Cldment  &  Co. 

XIV.  The  Pesaro  Madonna 79 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  D.  Anderson 

XV.   St.  John  the  Baptist 85 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  1).  Anderson 


RAPHAEL 

I.   The  Madonna  of  the  Chair 1 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 

II.  Abraham  and  the  Three  Angels 7 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

III.  The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes 13 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Thurston  Thompson 

IV.  The  Sacrifice  at  Lystra 19 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Thurston  Thompson 
V.   Heliodorus  Driven  from  the  Temple 25 

Picture  from  Photograpli  by  Fratelli  Alinari 

VI.   The  Liberation  of  Peter 31 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 


CONTENTS   AND   LIST   OF   PICTURES  vii 

VII.   The  Holy  Family  of  Francis  I 37 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

VIII.   St.  Catherine  of  Alexandria 43 

Picture  from  Photograiih  bj'  Frauz  Haufstaengl 

IX.   St.  Cecilia „    49 

Picture  from  Pliotograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 
X.   The  Transfiguration 55 

Picture  from  Photograpb  by  Fratelli  Alinari 

XI.   Parnassus 61 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 

XII.   Socrates  and  Alcibiades 67 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Giaconio  Brogi 

XIII.  The  Flight  of  ^neas 73 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 

XIV,  St.  Michael  Slaying  the  Dragon 79 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 
XV.   The  Sistine  Madonna 85 

Picture  from  Photograph  l).y  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

CORREGGIO 

I.   The  Holy  Night  (Dp:taii.) 1 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co, 

II.   St.  Catherine  Reading 7 

^       Picture  from  Photograph  by  Francis  Ellis  and  W.  Hay- 
ward,  London 

III.  The  Marriage  of  St.  Catherine 13 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

IV.  Ceiling   Decoration   in   the  Sala  del  Pergolato 

(Hall  of  the  Vine  Trellis) 19 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 

V.    Diana 25 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 

VI.   St.  John  the  Evangelist 31 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 
VII.   St.  John  and  St.  Augustine 37 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  D.  Anderson 

VIII.   St.  Matthew  and  St.  Jerome 43 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari  of  the  paint 
ing  in  water  color  by  P.  Toschi 


viii  CONTENTS   AND   LIST   OF   PICTURES 

IX.   The  Rest  on  the  Return  from  Egypt  (Madonna 

DELLA  ScODELLA) 49 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 
X.   Ecce  Homo 55 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

XL  Apostles  and  Genii 61 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari  of  the  paint- 
ing in  water  color  by  P.  Toschi 

XII.   St.  John  the  Baptist 67 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari  of  the  paint- 
ing in  water  color  by  P.  Toschi 

XIII.  Christ  Appearing  to  Mary  Magdalene  in  the  Gar- 

den (Noli  me  tangere) 73 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

XIV.  The  Madonna  of  St.  Jerome 79 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 
XV.   Cupid  Sharpening  his  Arrows  (Detail  of  Danae)     85 
Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 


VAN  DYCK 

I.   Portrait  of  Anna  Wake 1 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

II.   The  Rest  in  Egypt 7 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

III.  The  So-called  Portrait  of  Richardot  and  his  Son    13 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

IV.  The  Vision  of  St.  Anthony 19 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Fratelli  Alinari 
V.   Madame  Andreas  Colyns  de  Nole  and  her  Daugh- 
ter  25 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

VI.    D^DALUS   AND  IcARUS 31 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

VII.  Portrait  of  Charles  I 37 

By  Sir  Peter  Lely  after  Van  Dyck.   Picture  from  Carbon 
Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

VIII.   The  Madonna  of  St.  Rosalia 43 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 


CONTENTS   AND   LIST   OF  PICTURES  ix 

IX.   Charles,  Prince  of  Wales  (Detail) 49 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  D.  Anderson 
X.    St.  Martin  Dividing  his  Cloak  with  a  Beggar    .     55 
Picture  from  Carbon  Print  bj'  Braun,  Cl^naent  &  Co. 

XI.   The  Crucifixion Gl 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clt^ment  &  Co. 
XII.   James  Stuart,  Duke  of  Lennox  and  Richmond     .     67 

Picture  from  Photograph  of  the  original  Painting 

XIII.  Christ  and  the  Paralytic 73 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

XIV.  Philip,  Lord  Wharton 79 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

XV.   The  Lamentation  over  Christ 85 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Cl6ment  &  Co. 

REMBRANDT 

I.   Jacob  Wrestling  with  the  Angel 1 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

11.   Israel  Blessing  the  Sons  of  Joseph 7 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

III.  The  Angel  Raphael  leaving  the  Family  of  Tobit     13 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Maison  Ad.  Braun  &  Cie. 

IV.  The  Rat  Killer 19 

•"     Picture  from  Original  Etching  in  the  Museum  of  Fine 
Arts,  Boston 

V.    The  Philosopher  in  Meditation lio 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Maison  Ad.  Braun  d:  Cie. 

VI.    The  Good  Samaritan 31 

Picture  from  Original  Etching   in  the  Museum  of  Fine 
Arts,  Boston 

VII.   The  Presentation  in  the  Temple 37 

Picture  from  Photograi^h  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

VIII.   Christ  Preaching 43 

Picture   from  Original  Etching  in  the  Museum  of  Fine 
Arts,  Boston 

IX.   Christ  at  Emmaus 49 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Maison  Ad.  Braun  &  Cie. 

X.   Portrait  of  Saskia 55 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 


X 


CONTENTS   AND   LIST  OF   PICTURES 


XI.   The  Sortie  of  the  Civic  Guard 61 

Picture  from  Photograph  hy  Maison  Ad.  Braun  &  Cie. 

XII.   Portrait  of  Jan  Six 67 

Picture  from  Original  Etching  in  the  Museum  of  Fine 
Arts,  Boston 

XIII.  Portrait  of  an  Old  Woman 73 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Maison  Ad.  Braun  &  Cie. 

XIV.  The  Syndics  of  the  Cloth  Guild 79 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

XV.  The  Three  Trees 85 

Picture  from  Original  Etching  in  the  Museum  of  Fine 
Arts,  Boston 


MURILLO 

I.   The  Immaculate  Conception 1 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

II.   The  Angels'  Kitchen 7 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

III.  Boy  at  the  "Window 13 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Cli^ment  &  Co. 

IV.  The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds 19 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co, 

V.  The  Madonna  and  Child 25 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

VI.    Rebekah  and  Eliezer  at  the  Well 31 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  bj'  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

VII.   The  Dice  Players 37 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

VIII.   The  Education  of  the  Virgin 43 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 
IX.   Jesus  and  John  (The  Children  of  the  Shell)     .     49 
Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

X.   The  Holy  Family 55 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

XI.  The  Fruit  Venders 61 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 

XII.  The  Vision  of  St.  Anthony 67 

Picture  from  Photograph  by  Franz  Hanfstaengl 


CONTENTS  AND   LIST   OF   PICTURES  xi 

XIII.  St.  Roderick 73 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Cl(5ment  &  Co. 

XIV.  Youth's  Head 79 

Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 
XV.    St.  I>lizabeth  of  Hungary  (The  Leper)    ....     85 
Picture  from  Carbon  Print  by  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 


Note. — An  account  of  tlie  portrait  of  the  artist  appears  as 
Chapter  XVI  of  each  sectic/n  and  is  followed  by  a  Pronouncing 
Vocabulary  of  Proper  Names  and  Foreign  Words. 


MICHELANGELO 
1475-1564 


THE    MADONNA    AND    CHILD 

About  two  thousand  years  ago  a  babe  was  born 
in  the  Utile  Juchean  village  of  Bethlehem  whose  life 
was  to  change  all  history.  His  name  was  Jesus,  and 
every  Christian  country  now  takes  his  birth  as  a 
standard  from  which  to  reckon  time.  When  we 
speak  of  the  year  1900,  we  are  counting  the  number 
of  years  that  have  passed  since  that  event.^  To 
make  this  clear  we  sometimes  add  the  initials  a.  d., 
standing  for  the  Latin  words,  Anno  Domini,  mean- 
ing in  the  year  of  our  Lord.  To  go  still  farther 
back  we  speak  of  an  event  as  so  many  years  b.  c.  or 
Before  Christ. 

The-  infant  Jesus  came  to  his  mother  Mary  as  a 
peculiar  treasure.  Before  his  birth  she  had  had  a 
vision  of  an  anirel  tellin"'  her  that  her  son  was  to 
reiofn  over  a  o-reat  kino-dom.  She  felt  that  there 
was  a  great  and  solemn  mystery  in  his  life. 

At  the  time  he  was  born,  Bethlehem  happened  to 
be  crowded  with  people  who  had  come  there  to  pay 
their  taxes.  When  Mary  and  her  husband  Joseph 
went  to  the  inn,  there  was  no  room  for  them,  and 
the  baby  was  laid  in  a  manger  used  to  feed  cattle. 

1  To  be  perfectly  exact  we  must  always  add  four  years  to  a  date 
to  get  the  full  length  of  time  passed  since  the  birth  of  Christ,  as  a 
mistake  has  been  made  in  the  calculation. 


2  MICHELANGELO 

This  was  a  liumble  cradle  for  one  destined  to  be  a 
king' ;  but  the  mother  did  not  think  too  much  of 
outward  things.  Her  confidence  in  her  son's  great- 
ness was  not  to  be  shaken  by  trifles  like  this. 

The  new-born  babe  was  soon  sought  out.  First 
came  some  shepherds  asking  to  see  him,  because, 
while  watching  their  sheep  at  night,  they  had  had 
a  vision  of  angels  telling  them  that  a  Saviour  was 
born  in  Bethlehem.  Still  stranger  visitors  were 
some  wise  men  from  the  East,  who  said  they  had 
seen  a  star  which  sig-nified  to  them  the  birth  of  a 
king.  They  brought  the  babe  royal  gifts  of  gold 
and  frankincense  and  myrrh,  and  returned  on  their 
way  ^vell  pleased  with  the  success  of  their  journey. 

When  the  babe  was  about  a  month  old  he  was 
carried  up  to  the  great  city  of  Jerusalem,  where, 
according  to  the  religious  custom  of  the  Jews,  he 
was  to  be  offered  or  presented  to  the  Lord,  in  the 
temple.  Here  a  saintly  old  man  named  Simeon 
took  him  in  his  arms,  with  some  strange  words  of 
prophecy  of  the  salvation  which  this  child  was  to 
brino-  to  the  world. 

All  these  things  made  a  deep  impression  upon 
Mary,  and  she  was  a  proud  and  devoted  mother. 
Day  by  day  she  watched  her  child  grow  "  strong  in 
spirit,  filled  with  wisdom ;  and  the  grace  of  God 
was  upon  him."     It  is  said  that 

"  All  mothers  worship  little  feet, 
And  kiss  the  very  ground  they  've  trod," 

and  this  mother  had  special  cause  for  child  worship. 
The  Italians  always  refer  to  the  mother  of  Jesus 


Alinari,  Photo. 


John  Andrew  *  Son,  So. 


MADONNA  AND  CHILD 
A'atiojial  Hhiseiim,  I'lorciue 


THE   MADONNA   AND  CHILD  5 

as  the  Madonna,  which  is  the  old  Itahan  way  of 
addressing  a  lady.  This  representation  of  the  Ma- 
donna and  Child  makes  us  understand  better  what 
the  two  were  to  each  other.  The  confiding-  way 
in  which  the  boy  leans  against  his  mother's  knee 
shows  the  love  between  them.  The  mother  looks 
like  a  queen ;  on  her  well-poised  head  she  wears  a 
headdress  somethincr  like  a  crown.  As  the  mother 
of  a  prince  she  bears  her  honors  proudly. 

On  her  lap  is  the  book  from  which  she  has  been 
readino'.  The  child  seems  dreamino^  of  the  wonder- 
ful  words  he  has  heard,  as  he  rests  his  cheek  on  his 
little  hand,  his  elbow  bent  across  the  open  page.  A 
thoughtful  mood  is  upon  them  both,  and  there  is 
something  wistful  in  the  boy's  attitude.  The  mes- 
sage they  have  read  must  indeed  be  a  solemn  one. 
Perhaps  it  is  something  which  recalls  to  the  mother 
the  promise  of  the  angel  in  foretelling  the  birth  of 
Jesus.  She  thinks  of  the  o-reat  honors  that  are  to 
be  his,  and  also  of  the  sacrifices  by  which  they  must 
be  won.  The  book  may  be  open  at  the  words  of 
one  of  those  old  Hebrew  prophets  who  longed  for 
the  comino'  of  the  Redeemer.  There  is  a  verse  in 
the  prophecy  of  Isaiah,  which  speaks  of  a  child  upon 
whose  shoulders  the  government  shall  rest.^  The 
writer  tells  some  of  the  many  names  by  which  he 
shall  be  called,  and  we  may  imagine  this  mother 
and  child  going  over  together  these  strange  titles : 
•'Wonderful,  Counsellor,  The  Mighty  God,  The 
Everlasting  Father,  The  Prince  of  Peace." 

*  Isaiah,  chapter  ix.  verse  6. 


6  MICHELANGELO 

Our  illustration  is  from  a  bas-relief  by  Michel- 
angelo, and  as  we  examine  it  closely  we  discover 
that  the  sculptor's  work  was  left  unfinished.  The 
rough  marks  of  the  chisel  are  still  seen  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  marble.  A  child's  fio-ure  in  the  back- 
ground  is  quite  indistinct.  Probably  it  was  intended 
for  the  boy  St.  John  the  Baptist,  the  cousin  of  Jesus. 
The  child  Jesus  himself  is  by  no  means  completed ; 
his  right  arm  is  only  faintly  indicated. 

As  we  shall  learn  from  other  examples  of  sculp- 
ture in  this  book/  Michelangelo  often  neglected  to 
carry  his  work  to  completion.  He  was  so  possessed 
with  his  ideas  that  he  could  not  work  fast  euouo-h 
in  sketching  them  on  the  marble,  but  after  this,  it 
did  not  matter  so  much  to  him  about  the  finishing". 
He  had  done  enoug-h  to  show  his  meaninof. 

There  are  reasons  for  liking  such  work  all  the 
better  for  being  unfinished.  Some  of  the  most 
delio-htful  stories  ever  written,  like  those  of  Haw- 
thorne,  leave  something  at  the  end  still  unexplained. 
The  reader's  imagination  is  then  free  to  go  on  for- 
ever exploring  the  mystery,  and  inventing  new 
situations.  So  in  this  bas-relief,  the  great  sculptor 
does  not  work  out  the  details,  but  allows  us  to  exer- 
cise our  own  fancy  upon  them.  He  sketches  his 
thought  in  a  few  noble  lines,  and  each  may  round 
out  for  himself  the  completed  ideal. 

^  Note  particularly  the  Cupid  on  page  15,  and  the  tomb  of  Giuliano 
de'  Medici  on  page  81. 


II 

DAVID 

Long  ago  in  the  country  of  Palestine  lived  a  lad 
named  David,  who  kept  his  father's  sheep.  His 
free  life  out  of  doors  made  him  strong  and  manly 
beyond  his  years.  The  Israelites  were  at  this  time 
at  war  with  the  Philistines,  and  David's  quick  wit 
and  indomitable  courage  fitted  him  to  play  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  issue  of  the  war. 

The  Philistine  army  contained  a  giant  named 
Goliath,  described  as  ''  six  cubits  and  a  span  "  in 
height.  That  is  over  ten  feet ;  but  perhaps  his  ter- 
rible appearance,  in  all  his  armor,  made  him  taller 
than  he  really  w^as. 

One  day  this  giant  came  out  from  his  army  and 
made  a  proposal  to  the  Israelites :  ^  "  Choose  you  a 
man  for  you,  and  let  him  come  down  to  me.  If  he 
be  able  to  fight  with  me,  and  to  kill  me,  then  will 
we  be  your  servants :  but  if  I  prevail  against  him 
and  kill  him,  then  shall  ye  be  our  servants,  and 
serve  us."  Every  day,  morning  and  evening  for 
forty  days,  the  Philistine  stood  forth  and  repeated 
his  challenge,  yet  in  vain.  Saul,  the  king,  and  all 
Israel,  were  "  dismayed  and  greatly  afraid." 

Now  it  happened  that  David's  three  elder  brothers 

^  1  Samuel,  chapter  xvii.  verses  8,  9. 


8  MICHELANGELO 

were  in  the  Israelite  army,  and  one  day  their  father 
sent  him  to  them  with  a  present  of  some  provisions. 
While  the  lad  was  talking  with  his  brothers,  Goliath 
came  out  with  his  usual  call  of  defiance.  David 
listened  w4th  wonder  and  indio-nation.  "  Who  is 
this  Philistine?"  he  asked  scornfully,  "that  he 
should  defy  the  armies  of  the  living  God?"  The 
brothers  were  angry  at  what  they  thought  foolish 
bravado  on  the  part  of  David  ;  but  there  were  others 
who  reported  his  words  to  Saul,  who  forthwith  sent 
for  the  lad.  Then  David  amazed  the  king  by  boldly 
offering-  to  o-q  and  lio-ht  with  tiie  Philistine. 

"  And  Saul  said  to  David,  '  Thou  art  not  able  to 
o'o  against  this  Philistine  to  fight  with  him  :  for 
thou  art  but  a  youth,  and  he  a  man  of  war  from  his 
youth.'  And  David  said  unto  Saul,  '  Thy  servant 
kept  his  father's  sheep,  and  there  came  a  lion,  and 
a  bear,  and  took  a  lamb  out  of  the  flock :  And  I 
went  out  after  him,  and  smote  him,  and  delivered  it 
out  of  his  mouth  :  and  when  he  arose  against  me,  I 
caught  him  by  his  beard,  and  smote  him,  and  slew 
him.  Thy  servant  slew  both  the  lion  and  the  bear. 
.  .  .  The  Lord  that  delivered  me  out  of  the  paw  of 
the  lion,  and  out  of  the  paw  of  the  bear,  he  will 
deliver  me  out  of  the  hand  of  this  Philistine.'  And 
Saul  said  unto  David,  '  Go,  and  the  Lord  be  with 
thee.' 

"  And  Saul  armed  David  with  his  armour,  and  he 
put  an  helmet  of  brass  upon  his  head ;  also  he  armed 
him  with  a  coat  of  mail.  And  David  girded  his 
sword  upon  his  armour,  and  he  assayed  to  go ;  for 


v^ 


ISSL.^ 


Alinari,  Photo. 


Jul.n  Aii.ln.'i   i    >., 


DAVID 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  Florence 


DAVID  11 

he  had  not  proved  it.  And  David  said  unto  Saul, 
'  I  cannot  go  with  these ;  for  I  have  not  proved 
them.'  And  David  put  them  oft'  him.  And  he 
took  his  staff  in  his  hand  and  chose  him  five  smooth 
stones  out  of  the  brook,  .  .  .  and  his  shng  was  in 
his  hand :  and  he  drew  near  to  the  PhiHstine.   .  .   . 

"And  when  the  PhiHstine  looked  about,  and  saw 
David,  he  disdained  him  :  for  he  was  but  a  youth, 
and  ruddy,  and  of  a  fair  countenance.  .  ,  .  And 
the  Philistine  said  to  David,  '  Come  to  me,  and  1 
will  give  thy  flesh  unto  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and 
to  the  beasts  of  the  field.'  Then  said  David  to 
the  Philistine,  '  Thou  comest  to  me  with  a  sword, 
and  with  a  spear,  and  with  a  shield :  but  I  come 
to  thee  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  hosts,  the  God 
of  the  armies  of  Israel,  whom  thou  hast  defied. 
This  day  will  the  Lord  deliver  thee  into  mine  hand ; 
and  I  will  smite  thee,  and  take  thine  head  from 
thee.'   .   .   . 

"And  it  came  to  pass,  when  the  Philistine  arose, 
and  came  and  drew  nigh  to  meet  David,  that  David 
hasted,  and  ran  toward  the  army  to  meet  the  Philis- 
tine. And  David  j)ut  his  hand  in  his  bag,  and  took 
thence  a  stone,  and  slang  it,  and  smote  the  Philis- 
tine in  his  forehead,  that  the  stone  sunk  into  his 
forehead ;  and  he  fell  upon  his  face  to  the  earth. 
So  David  prevailed  over  the  Philistine  with  a  sling 
and  with  a  stone,  and  smote  the  Philistine,  and  slew 
him  ;  but  there  was  no  sword  in  the  hand  of  David. 
Therefore  David  ran,  and  stood  upon  the  Philistine, 
and  took  his  sword,  and  drew  it  out  of  the  sheath 


12  MICHELANGELO 

thereof,  and  slew  him,  and  cut  off  his  head  there- 
with. And  when  the  Philistines  saw  their  champion 
was  dead,  they  fled."  ^ 

This  heroic  adventure  of  David  is  the  subject 
of  Michelangelo's  statue.  The  shepherd,  having 
thrown  off  the  king's  armor,  advances  naked  and 
unhampered,  carrying  only  the  sling  flung  across 
his  back.  The  large  muscular  hand  hanging  by  his 
side  holds  the  piece  of  wood  on  which  the  sling  is 
huno'.  It  is  the  hand  that  wrenched  the  lamb  from 
the  lion's  mouth  and  then  seized  the  king  of  beasts 
himself  by  the  beard.  The  left  hand,  poised  on  the 
shoulder,  holds  the  centre  of  the  sling  where  it 
bulges  with  the  pebble.  The  youth  scans  the  enemy 
keenly,  marking  the  spot  at  which  to  aim.  In 
another  moment  the  pebble  will  be  speeding  on  its 
way.  His  air  of  confidence  makes  us  sure  of  the 
victory.     Determination  like  this  must  win  the  day. 

Critics  of  sculpture  tells  us  that  the  statue  of 
David  must  have  been  studied  from  a  model  of  the 
aofe  which  Michelang-elo  ima2"ined  as  that  of  the 
shepherd  lad  at  this  time.  The  figure  is  that  of  a 
growing  youth,  and  although  it  is  therefore  not  so 
beautiful  as  a  type  of  perfectly  developed  manhood, 
it  has  a  rugged  strength  which  makes  it  one  of  the 
sculptor's  most  interesting  works. 

'  1  Samuel,  chapter  xvii.  verses  33-51. 


Ill 

CUPID 

In  the  mythology  of  ancient  Greece  there  is  no 
more  popuhir  figure  than  the  little  gotl  of  love,  Eros, 
more  commonly  known  by  the  Latin  name  Cupid. 
He  was  supposed  to  be  the  son  of  Venus,  the  god- 
dess of  love  and  beauty,  whom  he  attended.  He 
was  never  without  his  bow  and  quiver  of  arrows. 
Whoever  was  hit  by  one  of  his  magic  darts  straight- 
way fell  in  love.  The  wound  was  at  once  a  pain  and 
a  delight.  Some  traditions  say  that  he  shot  blind- 
folded,—  his  aim  seemed  often  so  at  random.  Some- 
times the  one  whom  he  wounded  was  apparently 
least  susceptible  to  love.  Indeed,  Cupid  had  the 
reputartion  of  being-  rather  a  mischievous  fellow, 
fond  of  pranks. 

One  of  these  was  at  the  expense  of  Apollo,  the 
great  sun  god.  Apollo  was  himself  a  mighty  archer, 
and  had  slain  with  his  arrows  the  python  of  Delphi. 
Proud  of  his  victory,  he  mocked  at  the  little  god  of 
love,  advising  him  to  leave  his  arrows  for  the  war- 
like, and  content  himself  with  the  torch  of  love. 
Cupid,  vexed  at  the  taunt,  replied  threateningly, 
"  Thine  arrows  may  strike  all  things  else,  Apollo,  but 
mine  shall  strike  thee."  So  saying  he  drew  from 
his  quiver  two  arrows,  one  of  gold,  to  excite  love^ 


14  MICHELANGELO 

and  one  o£  lead,  to  repel  it.  With  the  golden  one 
he  shot  Apollo  through  the  heart,  with  the  leaden 
he  shot  the  nymph  Daphne.  So  Apollo  became 
nearly  mad  with  love  for  Daphne,  but  the  maid  fled 
from  him  with  horror.  He  pursued  her,  and  when 
he  was  close  upon  her,  she  turned  into  a  laurel-tree. 

Cupid  continued  to  work  havoc  with  his  arrows. 
Even  his  mother  Venus  could  not  escape  their  power. 
One  day,  when  frolicking  with  her  boy,  she  was 
wounded  by  one  of  the  darts,  and  before  the 
wound  healed  she  saw  and  loved  Adonis.  When 
that  youth  was  killed  in  a  struggle  with  a  wild  boar, 
she  was  inconsolable. 

Another  romantic  tragedy  for  which  Cupid  was 
responsible  was  the  love  between  Hero  and  Leander. 
These  two  young  people  lived  in  towns  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  Hellespont.  Leander  was  one  day  wor- 
shipping in  the  temple  of  Venus,  in  Hero's  town, 
Sestos,  when  he  saw  Hero,  and  was  at  that  moment 
shot  by  Cupid's  arrow.  His  love  was  returned,  and 
every  night  he  swam  across  the  channel  to  see  his 
lady  love,  until  one  night  a  tempest  arose,  and  he 
was  drowned.  The  waves  bore  his  body  to  the 
shore,  where  Hero  found  him,  and  in  her  despair 
threw  herself  into  the  sea  and  was  also  drowned. 

Such  legends  as  these  were  dear  to  the  hearts  of 
the  Greeks.  Their  poets  and  artists  were  very  fond 
of  the  subject  of  Cupid.  Now  Michelangelo's  early 
artistic  training"  was  under  the  influence  of  the  Greek 
culture.  He  was  an  inmate  of  the  household  of 
Loreu/io  de'  Medici,  who  was  an  ardent  lover  of  all 


JoliQ  Andrew  i  Son,  So. 


CUPID 

South  A'ensiiiL^/on  A/itsiUtn,  Loiukni 


CUPID  17 

that  was  beautiful  in  Greek  art  and  literature.  At 
the  table  of  the  prince  the  youth  must  often  have 
heard  the  old  Greek  myths  related,  and  in  the  gardens 
he  saw  splendid  Greek  marbles.  It  was  natural,  then, 
that  among  his  early  works  in  sculpture  he  should 
choose  the  subject  of  Cupid.  His  idea  was,  how- 
ever, his  own,  and  was  not  at  all  such  as  a  Greek 
would  have  imagined.  Classic  art  always  repre- 
sented the  god  of  love  as  a  merry  little  winged  boy, 
while  in  this  statue  he  is  seen  as  a  well-grown  youth. 
His  face  is  strong  and  masterful,  instead  of  inno- 
cently gay. 

He  has  dropped  on  one  knee  to  take  an  arrow^ 
from  the  o-round.  In  his  raised  left  hand  he  holds 
the  bow,  of  which  we  see  only  a  portion.  His  left 
leg  is  bent  in  position  to  rise  again.  Like  David, 
he  has  an  abundance  of  bushy  hair  crowning  his 
handsome  head ;  his  straight  brows  and  set  mouth 
show  the  same  determination  of  character.  He 
stands' for  love  which  is  determined  to  win,  for 
love  which  conquers  every  obstacle,  for  love  which 
is  unerring  in  aim.  It  is  a  much  nobler  conception 
than  the  mere  passing  fancy  of  which  the  old  myth 
speaks.     Michelangelo  was  one  who  believed  that 

"  Love  betters  what  is  best, 
Even  here  below,  but  more  in  lieaven  above."  ^ 

So  he  put  into  a  pagan  fancy  a  new  and  higher 
meanincf. 

To  understand  fully  the  qualities  of  this  work  of 
art,  one  ought  to  see  it  from  many  points  of  view, 

^  From  one  of  Michelangelo's  sonnets  translated  by  Wordsworth- 


18  MICHELANGELO 

and  study  the  lines.  The  long  curve  of  the  right 
arm  follows  the  curve  of  the  right  leg  from  hip  to 
knee.  The  bend  of  the  left  arm  repeats  the  line 
made  by  the  bend  of  the  left  leg.  The  two  extended 
arms  together  form  a  long  line  arching  like  the 
curve  of  a  bow. 

From  every  standpoint  all  the  lines  are  beautiful 
and  harmonious.  This  was  the  secret  the  Greeks 
had  taught  the  young  Italian  sculptor.  In  other 
respects  he  was  entirely  original.  Cupid,  like  David, 
is  in  an  attitude  of  action.  In  another  moment  he 
Avill  move.  This  was  quite  different  from  the  Greek 
sculpture,  which  always  gives  an  impression  of 
repose. 

Note.  —  There  is  a  difference  of  opinion  among  critics  as  to  the 
subject  of  the  statue  at  South  Kensington.  Heath  Wilson  con- 
sidered it  an  Apollo.  The  writer  has  followed  Symonds  in  calling  it 
Cupid. 

The  size  of  the  statue  may  be  calculated  from  the  foot  rule  which 
lies  across  the  pedestal  in  the  picture. 


IV 

MOSES 

In  Michelang-elo's  statue  of  Moses  the  o-reat  He- 
brew  leader  is  represented  at  the  height  of  his 
career.  He  was  a  prophet,  a  poet,  a  military  com- 
mander, and  a  statesman.  The  story  of  his  life  will 
show  how  all  these  qualities  could  be  combined  in 
one  person. 

At  the  time  of  his  birth  his  people  were  in  slav- 
ery to  the  Egyptians,  who  cruelly  o})pressed  them. 
Their  numbers  were  increasing  so  rapidly  that  it 
was  feared  they  would  soon  outnumber  their  masters. 
So  the  command  went  forth  to  drown  every  boy 
baby.  Now  the  mother  of  Moses  had  no  mind  to 
lose  her'^boy,  and  "  when  she  could  not  longer  hide 
him,  she  took  for  him  an  ark  of  bulrushes,  and 
daubed  it  with  slime  and  with  pitch,  and  she  put 
the  child  therein  and  laid  it  in  the  flags  by  the 
river's  brink.  And  his  sister  stood  afar  off,  to  know 
what  would  be  done  to  him."  ^ 

Then  a  strange  thing  happened.  The  princess 
came  to  the  river  with  her  maids  for  a  bath,  and 
finding  the  babe,  was  touched  by  his  cries.  The 
sister  came  up  as  if  by  chance,  and  asked  if  she 
should  seek  a  Hebrew  nurse  for  the  child,  and  when 

1  Exodus,  chapter  ii.  verses  3,  4,  Revised  Version. 


20  MICHELANGELO 

the  princess  said  Yes,  she  went  straight  for  lier 
mother. 

So  Moses  was  adopted  by  an  Egyptian  princess, 
yet  he  was  nurtured  in  infancy  by  his  own  mother. 
This  exjjlains  why,  with  all  the  Egyptian  learning 
acquired  at  court,  he  had  still  the  religious  training 
of  a  Jew,  and  when  he  grew  to  manhood  he  was 
full  of  sympathy  for  the  wrongs  of  his  people.  One 
day  he  saw  an  Egyptian  smiting  a  Hebrew,  and  in 
his  wrath  he  slew  the  Egyptian  on  the  spot.  News 
of  the  deed  came  to  Pharaoh  the  king,  and  Moses 
fled  into  a  place  called  Midian.  Here  for  forty 
years  he  lived  a  quiet  pastoral  life  as  a  shepherd  for 
Jethro,  whose  daughter  he  had  married. 

Then  came  the  divine  call.  He  was  alone  with 
his  sheep  on  the  mountain-side,  when  he  heard  a 
voice  saying,  "  Come  now  and  I  will  send  thee  unto 
Pharaoh,  that  thou  mayest  bring  forth  my  people 
the  children  of  Israel  out  of  Egypt,  .  .  .  and  I  will 
bring  you  up  out  of  the  affliction  of  Egypt  unto  the 
land  of  the  Canaanites  .  .  .  unto  a  land  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey."  ^  Thus  Moses  became  the 
leader  of  his  people  in  their  exodus,  or  departure 
from  Egypt. 

After  many  strange  experiences,  the  great  com- 
pany of  emigrants  made  the  passage  of  the  Red  Sea 
in  safety,  and  Moses  showed  his  poetic  gifts  in  a 
song  of  triumph.  Many  years  of  slavery  had  taken 
the  spirit  out  of  the  Hebrews,  and  they  needed  a 
wise  head  and  a  firm  hand  to  govern  them.     Moses 

^  Exodus,  chapter  iii.  verses  IC  and  17. 


JmI.d  Au'ircw  A   ^iln,  So, 


MOSES 
Church  ojf  S.  I^ietro  in  Vincoli,  A'otne 


MOSES  23 

had  both,  and  lie  was,  besides,  a  man  of  God. 
Going  ajDart  from  them  for  a  season  of  divine  com- 
munion on  the  mountain,  he  spent  forty  days  in 
preparation  for  a  system  of  government.  On  his 
return  he  brought  with  him  two  tables  of  stone, 
inscribed  with  the  ten  great  commandments,  which 
are  at  the  foundation  of  right  character.  He  had 
also  detailed  directions  for  their  daily  conduct,  and 
for  their  relio'ious  ceremonial. 

The  people  for  whose  good  all  these  plans  were 
made  were  in  the  mean  time  discouraged  by  the 
long  absence  of  their  leader.  They  had  no  idea 
how  much  he  was  doing  for  them,  and  in  their  folly 
they  forgot  his  teachings,  and  began  to  practise  the 
idolatrous  customs  they  had  seen  in  Egypt.  On 
descending  the  mountain,  Moses  found  them  wor- 
shipping the  golden  image  of  a  calf.  It  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at  that,  as  the  historian  says,^  "  Moses' 
anger  waxed  hot,  and  he  cast  the  tables  out  of  his 
hand^,  and  brake  them  beneath  the  mount." 

Again  Moses  went  up  into  the  mount  for  com- 
munion with  God,  and  again  two  tables  of  stone 
were  inscribed  with  the  ten  commandments,  to  re- 
place those  which  had  been  destroyed.  Again,  also, 
he  was  gone  forty  days,  and  this  time  he  was  given 
a  mysterious  revelation  of  the  goodness  of  God. 

Thus  it  was  that  when  he  came  down  the  people 
were  afraid  to  come  near,  for "  "  the  skin  of  his  face 
shone,"    or   "put  forth  beams,"   as  the   expression 

1  Exodus,  eliapter  xxxii.  verso  19. 

^  Ibid.,  cliapter  xxxiv.  verse  30.     See  Revised  Version. 


24  MICHELANGELO 

reads  in  some  Bible  translations.  In  the  old  Latin 
version  made  by  Jerome  in  the  fifth  century,  and 
known  as  the  Vulgate,  translated  into  what  is  now 
called  the  Douay  Bible,  w^e  read  that  "  Moses'  face 
was  horned."  This  is  why  all  the  old  artists,  who 
were  guided  by  the  Vulgate,  represented  Moses 
with  horns.  These  horns  became,  as  it  were,  sym- 
bols of  Moses'  inspiration  as  a  prophet. 

Michelangelo  followed  the  prevailing  custom  in 
using  these  curious  symbols.  The  long  curling 
beard  gives  his  hero  the  aspect  of  a  poet.  The 
tables  of  stone  show  him  to  be  a  law-giver.  But 
of  all  the  qualities  of  this  many-sided  man  seen 
in  the  great  statue,  the  most  conspicuous  are  his 
qualities  of  leadership,  —  the  keen  glance,  the  com- 
manding air,  the  alert  attitude,  the  determined  look. 
He  seems  ready  to  spring  to  his  feet  if  occasion 
demands.  We  see  also  something  of  his  faults,  of 
the  impulsive  anger  which  slew^  the  Egyptian,  and 
dashed  in  pieces  the  tables  of  stone,  and  of  the 
arrogance  which  cost  him  the  privilege  of  entering 
Canaan. 

He  was  not  permitted  to  see  his  labors  carried  to 
completion,  but  on  the  borders  of  Canaan  "  went  up 
into  the  mountain  of  Nebo,  .  .  .  and  died  there  in 
the  land  of  Moab,  according  to  the  word  of  the 
Lord.  And  he  buried  him  in  a  valley  .  .  .  over 
against  Beth-peor ;  but  no  man  knoweth  of  his  sep- 
ulchre unto  this  day." 


THE    HOLY    FAMILY 

The  pictures  we  have  thus  far  studied  in  this  col- 
lection are  reproductions  of  works  of  sculpture. 
This  is  the  art  which  Michelangelo  loved  best.  He 
was,  however,  a  painter  also,  and  in  the  later  years 
of  his  life  he  was  even  drawn  into  architecture. 
Paintino-  was  the  Hrst  art  he  studied,  but  he  soon 
laid  it  aside  for  sculpture,  and  after  that  returned 
to  it  from  time  to  time  throuohout  his  life. 

This  picture  of  the  Holy  Family  is  from  a  tempera 
painting.  It  shows  us  a  glimpse  of  the  home  life  of 
the  child  Jesus.  We  have  already  seen  in  the  bas- 
relief  of  the  Madonna  and  Child  how  thoughtful  a 
mood  was  sometimes  upon  the  mother  and  her  boy. 
In  this  picture  they  are  making  merry  together. 
The  mother,  seated  on  the  ground,  tosses  the  boy 
with  her  strong  arms,  for  her  husband  Joseph  to 
catch.  She  is  a  beautiful  woman,  large,  and  full  of 
life  and  vigor.  The  boy  is  a  healthy,  happy  child, 
with  perfect  confidence  in  his  mother.  He  rests  his 
fat  little  hands  on  her  head  to  steady  himself. 

Joseph,  bald  and  gray,  takes  the  play  a  little 
more  seriously,  as  he  gently  lifts  the  boy  from  the 
mother's  arms.  He  has  a  special  care  for  the  child. 
It  was  he  who  was  warned  by  an  angel  in  a  dream 


2G  MICHELANGELO 

that  it  was  dangerous  to  remain  in  Juclsea.  It  was 
he  who  "  took  the  young  child  and  his  mother  by 
night  and  departed  into  Egypt."  ^  It  was  he  again 
who  duly  brought  them  back  to  their  native  country 
when  the  cruel  king  was  dead  who  had  threatened 
the  child's  life.  After  the  return  from  Egypt  Joseph 
and  his  family  settled  in  the  little  town  of  Nazareth, 
where  he  followed  the  trade  of  a  carpenter. 

Now  Jesus  had  a  cousin,  a  boy  who  was  not  far 
from  the  same  age.  His  name  was  John,  and  his 
mission  in  life  was  closely  connected  with  that  of 
Jesus.  He  was  to  grow  up  a  great  preacher,  and 
finally  to  lead  people  to  Jesus  himself.  His  parents 
knew  before  his  birth,  from  an  angelic  visitation, 
that  he  was  to  be  a  prophet.  His  mother  Eliza- 
beth, and  Mary  the  mother  of  Jesus,  used  to  talk 
together,  before  their  children  were  born,  of  the 
strano-e  future  in  store  for  them.  We  like  to  think 
that  the  two  boys  grew  up  as  companions  and  play- 
mates. 

It  is  this  little  boy  John  who  is  seen  in  the  back 
of  the  picture,  at  the  right,  coming  up  as  if  to  join 
the  child  Jesus  in  his  romp.  We  see  his  eager  little 
face,  with  the  long  hair  blown  back  from  it,  just 
above  the  coping  stone  surrounding  the  garden  in- 
closure  which  the  Holy  Family  occupy.  He  carries 
over  his  left  shoulder  a  slender  reed  cross,  such  as 
is  given  him  in  all  the  old  works  of  art  as  a  symbol 
of  his  prophetic  character. 

You  may  say  wdien  you  look  at  the  picture  that 

^  Matthew,  chapter  ii.  verses  13,  14. 


Alinari,  Photo, 


John  Andrew  \  Sou,  No 


THE  HOLY  FAMILY 
Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence 


THE   HOLY   FAMILY  29 

this  is  such  a  group  as  you  might  see  any  day  in 
some  Tuscan  village.  The  people  are  indeed  very 
plainly  of  the  peasant  class,  and  the  artist  did  not 
go  far  out  of  his  way  to  find  his  figures.  Perhaps 
he  thought  this  was  after  all  the  best  way  to  show 
that  the  Holy  Family  was  not  unlike  other  families 
in  enjoying  the  simple  pleasures  of  home  life.  We 
may  feel  a  closer  sense  of  kinship  with  them  on  that 
account. 

In  studying  the  artistic  qualities  of  this  picture 
we  have  to  remember  that  Michelangelo  was  more 
of  a  sculptor  than  a  painter,  and  that  he  went  to 
work  upon  a  painting  with  the  same  methods  he 
used  in  marble.  The  central  figures  are  grouped  in 
a  solid  mass  as  if  for  a  bas-relief,  as  we  may  see  by 
comparing  this  illustration  with  that  of  the  Madonna 
and  Child.  The  mother's  arms  are  so  "  modelled," 
to  use  a  critical  term,  that  they  seem  to  start  out 
from  the  canvas  "  in  the  round,"  just  as  if  cut  from 
marble.  The  folds  of  her  dress,  as  well  as  those  of 
Joseph's  garment,  are  arranged  in  the  long  beauti- 
ful lines  artists  call  "'  sculpturesque." 

The  sculptor's  methods  are  also  plainly  seen  in 
the  peculiarity  of  his  background.  In  a  picture  of 
this  kind  most  painters  would  have  painted  there  a 
landscape,  but  Michelangelo  did  nothing  of  the 
kind.  Instead  there  is  a  semicircular  parapet  upon 
which  five  slender  unclothed  youths  are  playing 
together.  Three  sit  upon  the  wall  and  two  lean 
against  it. 

The  figures  bear  no  relation  to  the  story  of  the 


30  MICHELANGELO 

picture.  They  are  introduced  merely  for  the  sake 
of  decoration.  To  Michelanoelo  there  was  nothinpf 
so  beautiful  in  decoration  as  the  human  form.  The 
Hues  made  by  different  positions  of  the  body  trace 
patterns  more  beautiful,  he  thought,  than  any  ara- 
besques. The  Greeks  had  the  same  idea  when  they 
decorated  the  pediments  of  their  temples  with  bas- 
reliefs  of  nude  figures.  Applying-  this  principle  of 
sculpture  to  his  painting,  Michelangelo  arranged 
these  boys  so  that  their  slender  limbs  intertwine  in 
graceful  patterns,  making  a  decorative  background 
to  fill  in  the  picture.  The  lightness  and  delicacy 
of  the  design  heighten  the  effect  of  solidity  in  the 
figures  of  the  foreground,  giving  them  the  promi- 
nence of  figures  in  relief. 


VI 


THE    PIETA 

In  the  busy  years  of  Christ's  ministry  we  do  not 
read  of  his  often  being  with  his  mother  Mary.  lie 
was  going  about  the  country  preaching  and  heahng, 
and  gave  himself  wholly  to  his  mission.  Yet  we 
know  that  the  love  between  mother  and  son  was 
constant  and  unchano^insr.  From  besfinnino'  to  end 
she  always  had  confidence  in  his  power,  and  his 
tender  care  for  her  was  amonof  his  last  thouo-hts. 

On  the  dreadful  day  of  the  Crucifixion,  the  mother 
was  found  standing  by  the  cross,  with  her  sister  and 
Mary  Magdalene.  "  When  Jesus  therefore  saw  his 
mother,  and  the  disciple  standing  by,  whom  he  loved 
[that  is,  St.  John],  he  saitli  unto  his  mother.  Wo- 
man, behold  thy  son  !  Then  saith  he  to  the  dis- 
ciple, Behold  thy  mother !  And  from  that  horn- 
that  disciple  took  her  unto  his  own  home."  ^ 

We  can  imasfine  the  mother's  anofuisli  in  seeino; 
her  son  suffer  this  cruel  and  ignominious  death. 
He  had  lived  only  to  do  good,  and  noAV  he  was  dying 
an  innocent  sacrifice  to  his  enemies.  At  such  a 
moment  the  mother  might  truly  feel  that  a  sword 
was  piercing  her  soul,  as  the  old  man  Simeon  ^  had 
once  prophesied  of  her,  many  years  before. 

^  John,  chapter  xix.  verses  26,  27.       ^  Luke,  chapter  ii.  verse  35. 


32  MICHELANGELO 

"  Wearied  was  her  heart  with  grieving, 
Worn  her  breast  with  sorrow  heaving, 
Through  her  soul  the  sword  had  passed. 

"  Ah  !  how  sad  and  broken-hearted 
Was  that  blessed  mother,  parted 
From  the  God-begotten  One ! 

"  How  her  loving  heart  did  languish 
When  she  saw  the  mortal  anguish 
Which  o'erwhelmed  her  peerless  Son."  ^ 

Time  passed,  and  Jesus  now  being  dead,  his 
friends  were  permitted  by  the  governor  to  remove 
him  from  the  cross.  Joseph  of  Arimathea  took  the 
lead,  as  he  was  to  lay  the  body  in  a  new  sepulchre 
recently  made  in  his  garden.  Nicodemus  was  also 
there,  bringing  linen  and  spices  for  the  burial,  and 
the  loving  women  lingered  to  see  these  preparations. 

We  can  imagine  how  they  might  all  stand  aside  to 
make  room  for  the  mother  Mary.  Perhaps,  indeed, 
they  would  withdraw  a  little  way  to  leave  her  for  a 
moment  alone  with  her  son.  The  years  seem  to 
melt  away,  and  again  she  gathers  him  in  her  lap  as 
when  he  was  a  babe.  All  the  motherly  tenderness 
which  she  has  had  long  pent  up  in  her  heart  now 
overflows.  If  she  has  sometimes  felt  a  little  lonely 
that  in  his  manhood  he  no  longer  needed  her  care, 
she  forofets  it  now.     He  is  still  her  child. 

The  marble  group  by  Michelangelo  interprets 
such  a  moment  for  us.  The  Italians  call  the  subject 
the  Pieta,  which  means  compassion,  but  the  name 
scarcely  expresses  all  the  emotions  of  the  mother, 

^  From  Stabat  Mater- 


Aliaarl,  Fboto. 


John  Andrew  A  Son,  Sc. 


THE  PIETA 
Sr  Peter's,  Rome 


THE   PIETA  36 

She  seems  as  strons:  and  youiio-  as  when  she  brooded 
over  her  babe  in  the  Bethlehem  manger.  "  Purity 
enjoys  eternal  youth  "  was  the  sculptor's  explanation 
to  those  who  objected. 

Across  her  capacious,  motherly  lap  lies  the  slen- 
der, youthful  figure  of  the  dead  Christ.  The  head 
falls  back,  and  the  limbs  are  relaxed  in  death.  Suf- 
fering has  left  no  trace  on  his  face.  The  nail  prints 
in  hands  and  feet,  and  the  scar  in  the  side,  are  the 
only  signs  of  his  crucifixion.  The  delicately  moulded 
body  is  beautiful  in  repose. 

The  mother  seems  to  find  mysterious  comfort  in 
gazing  upon  her  son.  Perhaps  his  death  has  opened 
her  eyes  to  the  meaning  of  his  life.  If  this  is  so, 
she  cannot  grieve.  He  has  finished  the  work  given 
him  to  do,  and  death  is  the  beginning  of  immor- 
tality. So  sorrow  gives  place  to  resignation.  She 
is  again  the  proud  mother.  The  fond  hopes  with 
which  she  watched  his  childhood  have  been  more 
than  fulfilled.  She  extends  her  hand  in  a  g-esture 
which  seems  to  sav,  "Behold  and  see." 

It  is  said  that  certain  Lombards,  passing  through 
the  church  where  the  Pieta  stood,  ascribed  the  work 
to  a  Milanese  sculptor  named  Cristoforo  Solari. 
Michelangelo,  having  overheard  them,  shut  himself 
up  in  the  chapel,  and  chiselled  his  name  upon  the 
girdle  which  crosses  the  Madonna's  breast  and  sup- 
ports her  flowing  garments.  His  name  is  not  found 
on  any  of  his  other  works,  and  we  can  understand 
Avhy  he  felt  proud  of  such  a  masterpiece.  Though 
made  when  on  the  very  threshold  of  his  career,  it 


36  MICHELANGELO 

was  never  surpassed  even  in  his  later  years.  Some 
other  artist  afterwards  designed  the  two  little  bronze 
cherubs  who  hold  a  crown  over  the  Madonna's  head. 
They  are  quite  out  of  harmony  with  the  impressive 
dignity  of  the  figures  below. 

Michelangelo's  early  love  of  Greek  sculpture 
taught  him  many  lessons,  which  were  worked  out  in 
this  group.  It  has,  first  of  all,  that  perfect  repose 
which  was  the  leading  trait  in  classic  art.  There  is 
nothing  strained  or  violent  in  the  positions.  Besides 
this,  the  figures  are  so  arranged  that  on  all  sides,  as 
in  a  Greek  statue,  the  lines  are  beautiful  and  har- 
monious. 

But  the  subject  itself  is  one  which  would  have 
been  too  sad  for  the  pleasure-loving  Greek.  To  the 
pagan  the  thought  of  death  was  something  to  be 
avoided.  Michelangelo's  statue  teaches  the  highest 
lesson  of  religious  faith,  —  the  beauty  of  resigned 
sorrow  and  the  sublimity  of  sacrificing  love. 


VII 

CHRIST  TRIUMPHANT 

(Crista  Risorto) 

The  character  of  Christ  is  so  many-sided  that 
when  trying-  to  fancy  how  he  looked  while  he  lived 
in  the  world,  every  one  has  probably  a  different 
thought  uppermost.  The  business  man  and  the 
lawyer  may  imagine  the  keen,  searching  g-lance 
which  he  turned  upon  those  who  tried  to  entangle 
him  with  hard  questions.  A  loving  woman  thinks 
rather  of  the  compassionate  look  with  which  he 
greeted  the  sisters  of  Lazarus  when  they  came  to 
tell  him  that  their  brother  was  dead.  The  physician 
may  wonder  how  he  looked  when  he  spoke  the  com- 
mandino'  words  to  those  whom  he  healed. 

Others  dwell  upon  his  sufferings  as  the  Man  of 
Sorrows,  and  often  think  how  sad  he  looked  when 
he  referred  to  the  disciple  who  should  betray  him. 
Lovers  of  nature  like  to  imagine  the  look  of  pleasure 
on  his  face  in  seeino-  the  lilies  o-rowinof  in  the  iield, 
or  the  expression  of  eager  inquiry  with  which  he 
asked  the  fishermen  what  luck  they  had  had.  Every 
boy  and  girl  likes  best  to  think  of  him  smiling  upon 
the  children,  whom  he  called  to  him  and  took  in 
his  arms. 

Now  when  an  artist  makes  an  ideal  representation 


38  MICHELANGELO 

of  Christ,  he  tries  to  show  us  as  many  as  possible 
of  these  elements  of  character  combined  in  one 
figure.  So  we  may  test  the  success  of  Michelan- 
gelo's statue  of  Christ  by  searching  out  these  vari- 
ous elements  in  it.  We  must  also  know  what  inci- 
dent the  artist  had  in  mind  of  which  the  work  is  an 
illustration,  so  to  speak. 

The  statue  is  called  in  Italian  Cristo  Risorto, 
that  is,  Christ  Risen  or  Triumphant,  because  the 
reference  is  to  a  circumstance  not  recorded  of  his 
earthly  career,  but  belonging  to  the  time  following 
his  resurrection.  It  is  connected  with  a  story  told 
by  St.  Ambrose  about  the  apostle  Peter.  St.  Peter, 
it  is  believed,  spent  the  latter  part  of  his  life  in 
Rome,  where  the  cruel  emperor,  Nero,  was  doing 
his  best  to  exterminate  the  Christians. 

"  After  the  burning  of  Rome,  Nero  threw  upon 
the  Christians  the  accusation  of  havino-  fired  the 
city.  This  was  the  origin  of  the  first  persecution, 
in  which  many  perished  by  terrible  and  hitherto  un- 
heard-of deaths.  The  Christian  converts  besought 
Peter  not  to  expose  his  life,  which  was  dear  and 
necessary  to  the  well-being  of  all ;  and  at  length  he 
consented  to  depart  from  Rome.  But  as  he  fled 
along  the  Appian  Way,  about  two  miles  from  the 
gates,  he  was  met  by  a  vision  of  our  Saviour,  travel- 
ling towards  the  city.  Struck  with  amazement,  he 
exclaimed,  '  Lord  !  whither  goest  thou  ?  '  [Domine, 
quo  vadis  ?)  to  which  the  Saviour,  looking  upon 
him  with  a  mild  sadness,  replied,  ^  I  go  to  Rome  to 
be  crucified  a  second  time,'  and  vanished.     Peter, 


Alinari,  Fb«to, 


Jubn  Au.irew  i  buu,  Sc. 


CHRIST  TRIUMPHANT 
Church  of  S.  Maria  sopra  Minerva,  Rovie 


CHRIST  TRIUMPHANT  41 

taking  this  for  a  sign  that  he  was  to  submit  himself 
to  the  sufferings  prepared  for  him,  immediately 
turned  back,  and  reentered  the  city."  ^ 

It  is  this  visionary  figure  of  the  Christ,  appear- 
ing and  disappearing  before  the  eyes  of  Peter,  that 
Michelangelo  represents  in  the  statue.  He  carries 
a  cross  not  large  enough  for  an  actual  crucifixion, 
as  that  would  be  out  of  place  here,  but  tall  enough 
to  show  its  real  purpose.  He  has  also  the  long  reed 
and  the  sponge  which  the  soldier  used  to  give  him 
a  drink  of  vinegar  and  gall  when  he  thirsted  on  the 
cross.  A  bit  of  rope  is  a  reminder  of  the  scourging 
given  him  by  the  governor. 

All  these  thing's  he  carries  with  him  to  Rome  for 
a  fresh  martyrdom.  It  is  as  if  in  walking  along  the 
way  he  suddenly  meets  Peter,  and,  at  the  apostle's 
astonished  question,  he  pauses,  leaning  a  moment 
on  the  cross,  as  he  turns  gently  to  reply. 

Now  as  this  is  the  Christ  risen,  or  triumphant, 
the  Christ  who  has  conquered  death  and  the  grave, 
Michelangelo  wanted  to  do  all  he  could  to  make  a 
noble-lookinof  fio-ure.  The  face  is  of  the  handsome 
type,  wdth  regular  features,  which  the  Italians  like 
to  give  to  their  ideal  of  Christ.  The  expression  of 
reproach  is  so  gentle  that  one  deserving  rebuke  may 
well  feel  ashamed  before  it. 

The  sorrow  in  the  face  is  such  as  Jesus  mio-ht 
have  shown  as  he  turned  to  Judas  at  the  Last  Sup- 
per. The  gentleness  in  it  is  of  the  quality  so  at- 
tractive to  children.     There  is,  too,  something  of  the 

^  From  Mrs.  Jameson's  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art,  pages  200,  201. 


42  MICHELANGELO 

sympathetic  element  in  it  which  Mary  and  Martha 
found. 

The  countenance  is  not  without  intellectuality, 
though  it  scarcely  shows  the  keenness  which  the 
lawyers  found  it  hard  to  outwit.  It  has  rather  the 
refinement  of  a  lover  of  all  that  is  beautiful.  Nor 
is  there  much  in  expression  or  attitude  to  suggest 
the  more  commanding  qualities  of  Jesus.  These 
strongfer  elements  the  statue  seems  to  lack. 

It  is  rather  puzzling  to  one  who  is  trying  to  form 
standards  of  taste  to  learn  that  critics  are  divided  in 
their  opinion  about  this  statue.  It  is,  therefore, 
well  to  know  that  Michelangelo  is  not  wholly  respon- 
sible for  the  work  as  we  now  see  it.  Thouoh  he 
designed  and  began  it,  he  left  it  to  some  unskilful 
apprentices  to  finish.  The  effect  of  the  lines  is  in- 
jured by  the  bronze  drapery  which  was  added  later. 
A  bronze  sandal  has  also  been  put  on  the  right  foot 
to  protect  it,  as  it  had  become  much  worn  by  kisses. 

In  criticising  a  statue  one  must  always  remember 
that  it  is  best  seen  in  the  surroundings  for  which  it 
is  designed.  It  is  said,  even  by  one  who  does  not 
greatly  admire  Michelangelo's  Christ,  that  in  the 
dim  light  of  the  church  where  it  stands,  "  it  diffuses 
a  grace  and  sweetness  which  no  reproduction  ren- 
ders." ^ 

•'  Symonds,  in  Life  of  Michelangelo  Buonarotti. 


VIII 

THE    CREATION    OF    M4N 

Science  has  long  been  trying  to  solve  the  problem 
of  the  orio'in  of  the  human  race.  Great  books  are 
published  by  learned  men  to  explain  how  the  being 
called  man  came  to  be  what  he  is.  But  centuries 
before  the  beginnings  of  science  a  wonderful  poem 
was  written  on  the  same  subject  of  the  creation. 
This  poem  is  called  Genesis,  that  is,  the  Birth  or 
Origin  of  things,  and  it  forms  a  part  of  the  first 
book  of  our  Bible.  Ever  since  it  was  written  it  has 
been  one  of  the  sacred  books  of  many  people. 

This  story  of  creation  v.as  once  the  favorite 
subject  of  artists.  In  the  period  before  the  inven- 
tion of  printing,  people  depended  for  their  in- 
struction upon  pictures  about  as  much  as  we  now 
do  upon  books.  Painters  sometimes  covered  the 
walls  and  ceiling  of  churches  with  illustrations  of 
the  book  of  Genesis,  transformins;'  them  into  huo-e 
picture-books,  from  which  the  worshippers  could 
learn  the  Bible  stories  which  they  were  unable  to 
read  in  books. 

Michelangelo  was  one  of  the  last  Italian  painters 
to  do  this,  and  he  profited  by  all  the  Avork  that  had 
been  done  before  to  make  the  orandest  series  of 
Genesis  illustrations  ever  produced.     It  is  from  this 


44  MICHELANGELO 

series  that  our  illustration  is  taken,  representing  the 
subject  of  the  Creation  of  Man.  The  painter  did 
not  try  to  follow  the  text  very  literally.  In  the 
book  of  Genesis  we  read  :  ^  — 

"  And  God  said,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image, 
after  our  likeness :  and  let  them  have  dominion  over 
the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the  air,  and 
over  the  cattle,  and  over  all  the  earth,  and  ovei 
every  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  upon  the  earth. 

"  So  God  created  man  in  his  own  image,  in  the 
iro.ao-e  of  God  created  he  him.  .  .  .  And  the  Lord 
God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  and 
breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life ;  and 
man  became  a  living  soul." 

Michelangelo  takes  these  words,  and  expresses,  in 
his  own  way,  the  supreme  creative  moment  when 
"  man  became  a  living  soul." 

The  man  Adam  lies  on  a  jutting  promontory  of 
the  newly  made  land.  Though  his  body  is  formed, 
he  lacks  as  yet  the  inner  force  to  use  it ;  he  is  not 
yet  alive.  The  Creator  is  borne  along  on  a  swirling 
cloud  of  cherubs,  moving  forward  through  space 
like  a  rushing  mighty  wind.  Perhaps  the  painter 
was  thinking  of  the  psalmist's  beautiful  description 
of  God's  coming :  '^  "  He  rode  upon  a  cherub,  and 
did  fly :  yea,  he  did  fly  upon  the  wings  of  the 
wind." 

In  His  fatherly  face  is  expressed  the  good  pur- 
pose   to   create   a   son  "  in   his  own  image."     The 

1  Genesis,  chapter  i.  verses  26-27  ;  chapter  ii.  verse  7. 
^  Psalm  xviii.  verse  10. 


'  thp:  creation  of  man  n 

cherubic  host  accompanying-  him  are  full  of  joy  and 
awe.  We  are  reminded  of  that  time  of  which  the 
poet  Milton  wrote/  when 

"  All 
The  multitude  of  angels,  with  a  shout 
Loud  as  from  numbers  without  number,  sweet 
As  from  blest  voices,  uttering  joy,  —  Heaven  rung 
With  jubilee,  aiul  loud  hosannas  filled 
The  eternal  regions." 

The  sign  of  the  Almighty's  creative  power  is  the 
outstretched  arm  extended  towards  Adam  with  a 
superb  gesture  of  command.  As  if  in  answer  to 
the  divine  summons,  the  lifeless  figure  begins  to 
stir,  rising  slowly  to  a  sitting  posture.  The  face 
turns  towards  the  source  of  life  as  the  flower  turns 
to  the  sun.  The  eyes  are  lifted  to  the  Creator's 
with  a  wistful  yearning.  It  is  the  look  we  some- 
times see  in  the  eyes  of  a  woodland  creature  appeal- 
ing for  mercy.  It  is  such  a  look  as  might  belong 
to  that  imaginary  being  of  the  Greek  mythology, 
the  faun,  half  beast,  half  human.  Thus  Adam,  still 
but  half  created,  begins  to  feel  the  thrill  of  life 
in  his  members,  and  is  aroused  to  action.  He  lifts 
his  hand  to  meet  the  Creator's  outstretched  finger. 
The  current  of  life  is  established,  the  vital  spark  is 
communicated,  and  in  another  moment  Adam  will 
rise  in  his  full  dio-nitv  as  a  human  soul. 

This  picture  was  painted  long  before  there  was 
any  knowledge  of  electricity,  of  electric  sparks,  and 
electric  currents.  Yet,  if  we  did  not  know  other- 
wise, we  might  fancy  that  Michelangelo  had  some 

^  Paradise  Lost,  book  hi.  lines  344-349. 


48  MICHELANGELO 

of  these  wonderful  ideas  of  modern  science  in  mind, 
as  the  symbols  of  the  great  thoughts  he  was  trying 
to  express. 

The  picture  suggests  to  our  latter  day  scientific 
imagination  that  God's  currents  of  power  move  as 
silently,  as  swiftly,  as  invisibly  and  mysteriously  as 
the  currents  of  electricity.  The  painter  meant  to 
show  that  the  work  of  creation  was  not  a  mechanical 
effort  of  the  Almighty,  but  that  with  him  a  gesture, 
a  word,  even  a  thought,  brings  something  into 
being. 

The  series  of  which  this  picture  forms  a  part  is 
painted  in  fresco  on  the  ceiling  of  the  Sistine 
Chapel,  in  the  Pope's  palace  of  the  Vatican,  Rome. 
To  break  ap  the  monotony  of  the  long  plain  surface 
he  had  to  decorate,  the  painter  divided  the  strip  of 
space  in  the  centre  into  nine  compartments.  These 
are  separated  from  each  other  by  a  painted  architec- 
tural framework,  so  cunningly  represented  that  it 
seems  to  project  from  the  ceiling  like  a  solid  struc- 
ture of  beams. 

Our  illustration  shows  a  portion  of  the  simulated 
framework  which  incloses  the  picture.  On  what 
appears  to  be  a  pedestal  at  each  corner  is  a  seated 
figure  representing  a  statue.  One  is  a  beautiful 
youth  with  a  horn  of  plenty,  and  the  other  is  a 
faun-like  creature  capering  gayly.  The  purpose  of 
these  figures  is  decorative,  like  those  in  the  back- 
ground of  the  Holy  Family. 


IX 

JEREMIAH 

Michelangelo's  decoration  of  the  Sistine  Chapel 
ceihng-  did  not  stop  with  the  series  of  panels  run- 
ning along-  the  flat  space  in  the  centre.  On  either 
side,  where  the  ceiling  arches  to  meet  the  side  walls, 
he  painted  a  row  of  figures,  which  seem  to  be  seated 
in  sculptured  niches.  There  are  twelve  of  these 
figures  in  all,  and  seven  of  them  are  Hebrew  pro- 
phets. 

The  prophets  were  holy  men  of  old,  who  walked 
with  God,  and  carried  his  messao-es  amono-  men. 
They  were  men  of  great  courage  and  conviction, 
fearlessly  denouncing  the  sins  of  their  times.  Some- 
times they  w^ere  great  reformers,  bringing  about  by 
their  preaching  an  improved  condition  of  things. 
Often  their  mission  was  to  arouse  hope  in  discour- 
agement, to  strengthen  faith  in  a  happier  time  to 
come.  They  looked  forward  to  a  future  day,  when 
the  Prince  of  Peace  should  reiiin  in  the  earth. 

Jeremiah  was  a  prophet  of  Judah  during  the  cor- 
rupt and  troublous  times  in  the  reigns  of  Josiah, 
Jehoiakim,  and  Zedekiah.  He  has  been  compared 
by  a  recent  writer  ^  to  "  a  Puritan  living  in  the  age 
of  the  Stuarts,  to  a  Huouenot  livins:  in  the  aire  of 

'  Lyman  Abbott  in  Hebrew  Prophets  and  American  Problems. 


60  MICHELANGELO 

the  Medici,  or  a  Savonarola  living  in  the  age  of 
Pope  Alexander  VI."  He  was  born  in  Anathoth, 
a  little  village  of  Jiidsea,  and  being  the  son  of  a 
priest  was  consecrated  to  the  priesthood  from  birth. 

He  was  still  very  young  when  it  was  borne  in 
upon  him  that  to  be  loyal  to  God  he  must  stand 
forth  and  speak  the  truth  more  boldly  than  other 
priests  were  doing.  Shrinking  from  such  a  task, 
he  besought  God  to  spare  him.  "  Ah,  Lord  God  ! 
behold,  I  cannot  speak :  for  I  am  a  child." 

And  this,  writes  Jeremiah,  is  the  answer  he  re- 
ceived :  ^  "  Say  not,  I  am  a  child :  for  thou  shalt 
go  to  all  that  I  shall  send  thee,  and  whatsoever  I 
command  thee  thou  shalt  speak.  Be  not  afraid  of 
their  faces :  for  I  am  with  thee  to  deliver  thee^ 
saith  the  Lord.  Then  the  Lord  put  forth  his  hand, 
and  touched  my  mouth.  And  the  Lord  said  unto 
me.  Behold,  I  have  put  my  words  in  thy  mouth. 
See,  I  have  this  day  set  thee  over  the  nations  and 
over  the  kingdoms,  to  root  out,  and  to  pull  down, 
and  to  destroy,  and  to  throw  down,  to  build,  and  to 
plant." 

Thus  Jeremiah  became  a  prophet,  and  from  that 
time  on  his  life  was  "  one  long,  hopeless  protest 
against  folly  and  crime."  Earnestly  he  besought 
his  people  to  return  to  God  before  it  was  too  late : 
"  0  Jerusalem,  wash  thine  heart  from  wickedness, 
that  thou  mayest  be  saved ; "  '^  but  prayers  and 
threats  were  alike  of  no  avail,  and  misfortunes  be- 
gan   to    afflict    the    land.       Then    Jeremiah    shows 

1  Jeremiah,  chapter  i.  verses  6-10.  ^  Ibid.,  ch.  iv.  v.  14. 


Alinari,  Photo. 


Jolin  Andrew  &  Son,  So. 


JEREMIAH 
Sistinc  Chapel,  Rome 


JEREMIAH  53 

himself  a  true  patriot.  Though  his  people  refused 
to  hear  him,  he  still  loves  them  and  pleads  their 
cause.  In  the  horror  of  famine,  he  prays  to  God 
in  their  behalf. 

There  are  times  even  in  the  midst  of  disappoint- 
ment when  Jeremiah  has  some  gleani  of  hope  for 
the  future.  He  predicts  the  days  when  "  a  King 
shall  reign  and  prosper,  and  shall  execute  judgment 
and  justice  in  the  earth." '  Such  times  he  himself 
was  never  to  enjoy.  He  lived  to  see  the  Babylonian 
invasion,  Jerusalem  besieged  and  laid  waste,  and  his 
people  taken  captive.  The  reward  of  his  faithfu] 
warnings  was  to  be  cast  into  prison  by  the  ungrate- 
ful King  Zedekiah.  Finally  he  was  carried  by  the 
remnant  of  his  people  into  Egypt,  where  he  died  in 
a  sad  and  lonely  old  age. 

Once  in  a  moment  of  discouragement  early  in 
life,  his  grief  had  burst  forth  in  words  which  might 
well  exj)ress  the  feelings  of  his  old  age :  '•  Oh 
that  my  head  were  waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain 
of  tears,  that  I  might  weep  day  and  night  for  the 
slain  of  the  daughter  of  my  people  !  "  -' 

All  the  pathos  of  these  words  is  conveyed  in 
Michelangelo's  wonderful  figure  of  Jeremiah.  The 
story  of  his  life  is  written  in  his  face  and  attitude. 
He  is  an  old  man,  with  long  gray  beard,  but  he  still 
has  the  splendid  vigor  which  comes  from  plain  and 
simple  living.  He  sits  with  bowed  head,  lost  in 
thought,  his  long  life  passing  in  review  before  his 

^  Jerciniali,  chapter  xxiii.  verse  5. 
2  Jeremiah,  chapter  ix.  verse  1. 


54  MICHELANGELO 

mind's  eye.  His  message  is  spoken,  his  race  is  run  5 
he  is  weary  of  life  and  longs  to  die.  There  is  some- 
thing inexpressibly  moving  in  his  profound  melan- 
choly. 

The  painter  has  j^laced  just  behind  the  prophet 
two  little  figures  which  are  like  attendant  spirits. 
They  seem  to  sympathize  with  Jeremiah's  sorrows. 
The  figures  ornamenting  the  sculptured  niche  re- 
mind us  of  those  in  the  background  of  the  Holy 
Family  and  have  a  similar  decorative  purpose. 

Those  who  have  studied  the  history  of  the  times 
in  which  Michelangelo  lived  may  find  in  this  figure 
of  Jeremiah  an  expression  of  the  artist's  own  char- 
acter. Like  the  old  Hebrew  prophet,  he  lived  in 
the  midst  of  a  corruption  which  he  was  helpless  to 
remedy,  and  which  saddened  his  inmost  soul.  His 
own  life  was  full  of  disappointments.  In  his  lonely 
old  age  he  wrote  a  sonnet,  which  is  not  unlike  some 
of  Jeremiah's  utterances,  and  which  is  a  clue  to  the 
meaning  of  the  picture  :  — 

"  Rome  to  the  utmost  brink  of  life's  dark  sea, 
Too  late  thy  joys  I  understand,  O  earth  ! 
How  thou  dost  promise  peace  which  cannot  be, 
And  that  repose  which  ever  dies  at  birth. 
The  retrospect  of  life  through  many  a  day, 
Now  to  its  close  attained  by  Heaven's  decree, 
Brings  forth  from  memory,  in  sad  arr»^y, 
Only  old  errors,  fain  forgot  by  me,  — 
J^rrors  which  e'en,  if  long  life's  erring  day, 
To  soul  destruction  would  have  led  my  way. 
For  this  I  know  —  the  greatest  bliss  on  high 
Belongs  to  him  called  earliest  to  die." 


X 

DANIEL 

In  striking  contrast  to  the  bowed  and  sorrowful 
old  prophet  Jeremiah  is  the  alert  and  eager  youth 
Daniel.  The  two  men  were  contemporaries,  though 
there  was  a  difference  in  their  ages.  When,  in  the 
reign  of  Jehoiakim,  the  Jews  were  taken  into  captiv- 
ity to  Babylon,  the  youth  Daniel  wentwdth  them,  while 
the  old  prophet  Jeremiah  was  left  behind.  Daniel 
was  chosen,  with  three  companions,  to  be  educated 
at  the  court  of  the  Babylonian  king,  Nebuchadnez- 
zar. They  were  taught  the  Chaldean  language  and 
the  sciences,  and  the  king  was  delighted  with  their 
progress. 

An  opportunity  soon  came  for  Daniel  to  be  of 
service  to  his  roval  iiatron.  Nebuchadnezzar  had  a 
strano["e  dream,  which  none  of  his  mao-icians  could 
interpret,  because,  unfortunately,  he  had  forgotten 
it.  In  his  anger  that  no  one  could  supply  the  lost 
memory,  he  commanded  to  destroy  all  the  wise  men 
of  Babylon.  But  Daniel  prayed  to  God  that  the 
secret  mio;ht  be  revealed  to  him. 

His  prayers  were  answered,  and  he  related  to  the 
king  not  only  just  what  the  dream  was,  but  the  full 
meaning  of  it :  ^     "  Thou,  0  king,  sawest,  and  behold 

^  Daniel,  chapter  ii.  verses  31-35. 


56  MICHELANGELO 

a  great  image.  This  great  image,  whose  brightness 
was  excellent,  stood  before  thee ;  and  the  form 
thereof  was  terrible.  This  image's  head  was  of  fine 
gold,  his  breast  and  his  arm.s  of  silver,  his  belly  and 
his  thighs  of  brass,  his  legs  of  iron,  his  feet  part  of 
iron  and  part  of  clay.  Thou  sawest  till  tliat  a  stone 
was  cut  out  Avithout  hands,  which  smote  the  imas'e 
upon  his  feet  that  were  of  iron  and  clay,  and  brake 
them  to  pieces.  .  .  .  And  the  stone  that  smote  the 
image  became  a  great  mountain,  and  filled  the  whole 
earth." 

In  Daniel's  interpretation  the  different  portions 
of  the  image  represented  the  different  kingdoms 
which  should  follow,  one  after  another,  in  the 
future.  The  stone  which  brake  the  image  in  pieces 
referred  to  the  final  kingdom  which  the  God  of 
heaven  shall  set  up,  "  which  shall  never  be  de- 
stroyed," but  which  shall  stand  forever. 

From  this  time  forth  Daniel  became  a  seer.  He 
had  many  wonderful  visions  in  the  night,  and  inter- 
preted them  with  reference  to  future  historical 
events.  He  was  also  a  statesman,  the  kino-  havins" 
made  him  governor  of  the  province  as  a  reward  for 
his  services.  In  later  years  he  acted  as  viceroy  at  a 
time  when  the  kinof  was  insane. 

In  the  reign  of  Nebuchadnezzar's  successor,  Bel- 
shazzar,  Daniel  was  again  called  into  service  as  a 
seer.  One  night,  during  a  great  feast,  a  mysterious 
hand  appeared  to  write  some  inscription  on  the  wall, 
and  Daniel  alone  could  interpret  it.  The  message 
was    ominous,   but    the    prophet   spoke   out  boldly. 


Aliaari,  Photo. 


JohD  Andrew  i  Son.  Sc. 


DANIEL 
Sistiiie  Chapel,  Rovie 


DANIEL  59 

"Mene,  Mene,  Tekel,  Upharsin,  ran  the  words, 
"  Thou  art  wei<>hed  in  the  balances  and  art  found 
wantino'."  Daniel  condemned  the  kino-  for  his  in- 
iquities,  and  declared  that  his  kingdom  should  be 
divided  by  the  Medes  and  Persians.  That  very 
night  Belshazzar  was  slain,  and  Darius,  the  Median, 
took  the  kino'dom. 

Under  the  new  dynasty  Daniel  was  given  so  much 
power  that  some  of  the  officials,  jealous  of  his  pre- 
ferment, plotted  against  him.  They  contrived  to 
persuade  King  Darius  to  sign  a  decree  that  "  who- 
soever should  ask  a  petition  of  any  god  or  man  for 
thirty  days,  save  of  the  king  himself,  should  be  cast 
into  the  den  of  lions."  The  officials  were  rioht  in 
sujjposing  that  this  would  entrap  Daniel  into  law- 
breaking,  for,  faithful  to  his  Hebrew  training,  he 
offered  prayer  to  God  three  times  a  day.  He  was 
therefore  cast  into  the  lions'  den,  but  no  harm  befell 
him,  because,  according  to  his  own  explanation,  God 
sent  his  ano-el  to  shut  the  lions'  mouths. 

Daniel  continued  to  hold  office  even  in  the  reign 
of  the  next  king,  Cyrus  the  Persian.  He  lived  to  a 
great  old  age,  but  he  was  so  young  wdien  he  first 
showed  his  prophetic  gifts  that  it  is  natural  to  think 
of  him  in  his  youth  as  Michelangelo  has  represented 
him.  It  would  seem  that  the  artist  had  in  mind 
Daniel's  early  years  of  education  at  court.  On  his 
lap  is  a  large  open  book  supported  on  the  back  of  a 
tiny  figure  standing  between  his  knees.  This  may 
represent  a  volume  of  Chaldean  learning-.  His  pos- 
ture shows  that  he  has  been  consultino-  the  volume. 


60  MICHELANGELO 

and  now  turns  to  his  writing  tablets  to  record  his 
own  thong-hts. 

His  broad  forehead  shows  him  to  be  a  student 
and  a  thinker.  The  wavino;-  hair  is  brushed  back 
to  form  an  aureole  about  his  face.  It  is  the  face  of 
a  dreamer  in  a  moment  of  inspiration.  Eagerly  he 
writes  his  words  of  mingled  poetry  and  prophecy. 
He  is  full  of  youthful  enthusiasm  for  his  work,  a 
nature  fitted  for  action  as  well  as  for  vision.  He 
has  also  the  spirited  bearing  of  one  Avho  fears 
neither  the  rao-e  of  a  lion  nor  the  wrath  of  a  kinaf. 
There  is  a  breezy  energy  in  his  motions,  as  if 
thoughts  came  more  swiftly  than  he  could  tran- 
scribe them. 

His  expression  of  happy  anticipation  is  in  vivid 
contrast  to  Jeremiah's  sorrowful  attitude  of  retro- 
spection. The  picture  brings  out  clearly  the  fact 
that  the  keynote  of  Daniel's  prophecy  is  hope. 
Looking  into  his  rapt  face,  we  may  imagine  that 
this  is  the  message  he  is  writing :  "  They  that  be 
wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament ; 
and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness,  as  the 
stars  forever  and  ever."  ^ 

1  Daniel,  chapter  xii.  verse  3. 


XI 

THE    DELPHIC    SIBYL 

In  the  rows  of  figures  which  Michelang-elo  painted 
along  the  arched  portion  of  the  ceihng  of  the  Sis- 
tine  Chapel,  the  prophets  are  associated  with  sibyls. 
Hence,  in  the  plan  of  decoration,  tliere  comes  first 
the  figure  of  a  man,  and  then  the  figure  of  a 
woman. 

Now,  as  the  Bible  contains  no  allusion  to  sibyls, 
it  may  seem  strange  that  they  should  have  a  place 
in  a  series  of  Bible  illustrations,  and  especially  that 
they  should  appear  side  by  side  with  the  prophets. 
To  explain  this,  we  must  learn  something  about  the 
sibyls. 

They  Avere  women  of  ancient  times  supposed  to 
have  supernatural  gifts  of  foretelling  the  future. 
They  devoted  themselves  to  solitude  and  meditation, 
and  sometimes  lived  apart  in  caves  or  grottoes. 
Sometimes  they  were  connected  with  temples,  and 
delivered  what  were  supposed  to  be  the  messages  of 
the  gods  to  the  worshippers.  These  messages  were 
called  oracles,  and  were  greatly  revered  by  the  peo- 
ple who  consulted  the  gods. 

Some  of  the  sibyls'  words  of  wisdom  were  com- 
mitted to  writing  and  passed  down  to  following 
generations.     Though  they  lived  in  heathen  coun- 


62  MICHELANGELO 

tries,  the  tradition  ran  that  they  prophesied  the 
advent  of  Christ.  There  is  a  passage  in  one  of 
Virgil's  eclogues  (the  fourth)  upon  which  the  sup- 
position is  based.  Early  in  the  Christian  era,  when 
men  were  spreading  the  new  faith,  they  made  much 
of  these  sibylline  prophecies  to  add  weight  to  their 
teachings. 

In  former  times,  fact  and  fable  were  very  often 
confused,  and  people  did  not  take  pains  to  distin- 
guish the  legends  of  the  sibyls  from  the  history  of 
the  prophets.  When  the  Latin  hymn  "  Dies  Irae  " 
was  written,  the  sibyl  was  mentioned,  with  the 
prophet,  as  predicting  the  final  destruction  of  the 
world.  Many  painters  and  sculptors  gave  the  two 
equal  honor  in  the  same  way.  In  the  prevailing 
opinion,  the  sibyls  shared  with  the  prophets  an  in- 
spired foreknowledge  of  the  Christian  faith. 

The  nine  main  panels  of  Michelangelo's  ceiling 
decoration  show  how  man  was  created,  and  how 
he  was  tempted  and  fell  into  sin.  To  carry  on  still 
further  the  story  of  the  human  race,  the  painter 
shows  the  succession  of  men  and  women,  prophets 
and  sibyls,  who,  one  after  another,  predicted  the 
redemption  of  the  world  in  Christ.  On  the  side 
walls,  below  these  figures,  the  story  is  carried  to 
completion  in  a  series  of  pictures  illustrating  the 
life  of  Christ.  The  last  named  frescoes  were  painted 
by  various  artists  some  years  before  Michelangelo's 
work  on  the  ceiling. 

The  number  of  sibyls  was  given  as  ten  or  twelve, 
and  of  these  Michelangelo  selected  five.     His  idea 


Alinari,  Photo. 


John  Andrew  &  Son.  ba 


THE  DELPHIC  SIBYL 

Sistiue  Chapel,  Kojue 


THE   DELPHIC   SIBYL  65 

here,  as  with  the  prophets,  seemed  to  be  to  represent 
some  in  old  age  and  some  in  youth. 

The  Delphic  sibyl  is  the  youngest  and  most  beau- 
tiful of  them  all.  She  presided  over  the  temple  of 
Apollo  in  the  Greek  town  of  Delphi,  where  it  was 
long  customary  for  the  priestess,  ov  j^J/thla,  as  she 
was  called,  to  be  a  young  woman  selected  from  some 
family  of  poor  country  people. 

The  temple  at  Delphi  was  one  of  great  celebrity. 
In  the  centre  was  a  small  opening  in  the  ground, 
whence  arose  an  intoxicating  vapor,  and  over  this 
sat  the  pythia,  on  a  three-legged  seat,  or  tripod,  and 
delivered  tlie  oracle  communicated  to  her  by  the 
pfod.     These  oracles  were  delivered  in  verse. 

The  Delphic  sibyl,  or  pythia,  of  Michelangelo's 
picture,  has  the  splendid  stature  of  an  Amazon. 
Her  head  is  draped  with  a  sort  of  Greek  turban, 
beneath  which  her  hair  escapes  in  flying  curls.  Her 
face  and  expression  show  her  at  once  to  be  unlike 
an  ordinary  woman.  She  has  the  look  of  a  startled 
fawn,  which  has  suddenly  heard  the  call  of  a  distant 
voice.  She  turns  her  head  in  the  attitude  of  one 
listening.  She  looks  far  away  with  eyes  that  see 
visions,  but  what  those  visions  are  none  can  guess. 
There  are  other  pictures  of  the  same  sibyl  carrying 
a  crown  of  thorns,  showing  that  she  predicted  the 
sufferings  of  Christ.  Perhaps  this  is  the  meaning 
of  the  sorrowful  expression  in  these  wide  eyes. 

The  scroll  which  she  unrolls  in  her  left  hand  is 
the  scroll  of  her  prophecy.  The  two  little  figures 
holding  a  book,  just  behind  her  right  shoulder,  are 


66  MICHELANGELO 

genii,  or  spirits,  symbolic  of  her  inspiration.  One 
reads  eagerly  from  the  volume  while  the  other  lis- 
tens with  rapt  attention. 

The  picture  makes  a  very  interesting  study  in  the 
composition  of  lines.  Starting  from  the  topmost 
point  of  the  turban,  draw  a  line  on  the  right,  com- 
ing across  the  shoulder  along  the  outer  edge  of  the 
drapery  to  the  toe.  On  the  left,  let  the  line  con- 
necting the  same  two  points  follow  the  outer  curve 
of  the  scroll,  along  the  slanting  edge  of  the  mantle, 
and  we  get  a  beautiful  pointed  oval  as  the  basis  of 
the  composition. 

The  sibyl's  left  arm  drops  a  curve  across  the 
upper  part  of  the  figure,  and  this  curve  is  repeated 
a  little  lower  down  by  the  creases  in  the  drapery 
across  the  lap.  Such  are  the  few  strong,  simple 
lines  which  compose  the  picture,  producing  an  effect 
of  grandeur  which  a  confusion  of  many  lines  would 
entirely  spoil. 


XII 

THE    CUM^AX    SIBYL 

Of  all  the  sibyls,  the  one  we  hear  most  about  is 
the  Cumsean.  The  legend  runs  that,  having  asked 
a  boon  of  Apollo,  she  gathered  a  handful  of  sand 
and  said,  "  Grant  me  to  see  as  many  birthdays  as 
there  are  sand  grains  in  my  hand."  The  wish  was 
gratified,  but  unluckily  she  forgot  to  ask  for  endur- 
ing youth,  so  she  was  doomed  to  live  a  thousand 
years  in  a  withered  old  age.  Thus  we  always  think 
of  her  as  an  old  woman,  as  Michelangelo  has  repre- 
sented her. 

She  is  called  the  Cumsean  sibyl  because  she  is 
supposed  to  have  lived  in  Cum?e,  which  was  the 
oldest  and  one  of  the  most  important  of  the  Greek 
colonies  in  Italy.  Her  real  name,  we  are  told,  was 
Demos.  She  lived  in  a  great  cavern,  where  the 
people  came  to  consult  her,  and  her  answers  to  their 
questions  were  regarded  as  oracles,  or  answers  from 
the  deities.  She  used  to  write  on  the  leaves  of  trees 
the  names  and  fates  of  different  persons,  arranging 
them  in  her  cave  to  be  read  by  her  votaries.  Some- 
times the  wind  sweeping  through  the  cavern  scat- 
tered the  leaves  broadcast  through  the  world. 

The  manner  of  consulting  her  is  fully  described 
by  the  Latin  poet  Virgil  in  the  sixth  book  of  the 


68  MICHELANGELO 

iEneid.  He  tells  how  ^Eneas,  arriving  with  his 
fellow  voyagers  at  the  town  of  Cumae,  immediately 
goes  to  the  temple  of  Apollo, 

"  And  seeks  the  cave  of  wondrous  size, 
The  sibyl's  dread  retreat, 
The  sibyl,  whom  the  Dalian  seer 
Inspires  to  see  the  future  clear, 
And  tills  with  frenzy's  heat  ; 
The  grove  they  enter,  and  behold 
Above  their  heads  the  roof  of  gold. 

"  Within  the  mountain's  hollow  side, 
A  cavern  stretches  high  and  wide  ; 
A  hundred  entries  thither  lead  ; 
A  hundred  voices  thence  proceed, 
Each  uttering  forth  the  sibyl's  rede. 
The  sacred  threshold  now  they  trod  : 
'Pray  for  an  answer  !  pray  !  the  god,' 
She  cries,  '  the  god  is  nigh  ! ' 

"  And  as  before  the  door  in  view 
She  stands,  her  visage  pales  its  hue. 
Her  locks  dishevelled  fly, 

Her  breath  comes  thick,  her  wild  heart  glows. 
Dilating  as  the  madness  grows, 
Her  form  looks  larger  to  the  eye; 
Unearthly  peals  her  deep-toned  cry, 
As,  breathing  nearer  and  more  near, 
The  god  conies  rushing  on  his  seer." 

^neas  now  begs  a  favor  of  the  sibyl.  He  has 
heard  that  here  the  j^ath  leads  downward  to  the 
dead,  and  he  desires  to  go  thither  to  visit  his  father, 
Anchises.  There  are  certain  conditions  to  fulfil 
before  setting  forth,  but  when  these  are  done  the 
sibyl  guides  him  on  his  way,  and  the  journey  is 
safely  made. 


Allnari.  Photo. 


Jobo  Andrew  &  Son.  Sc. 


THE  CUMiEAN  SIBYL 

Sistine  Chapel,  Koine 


THE   CUM^AN   SIBYL  71 

Another  legend  of  the  Cumsean  sibyl  has  to  do 
with  the  Roman  emperor  Tarquin.  The  sibyl  came 
to  him  one  day  with  nine  books  of  oracles,  which 
she  wished  him  to  buy.  The  price  was  exorbitant, 
and  the  emperor  refused  her  demand.  She  then 
went  away,  burned  three  of  the  books,  and,  return- 
ing with  the  remaining  six,  made  the  same  demand. 
Again  her  offer  was  refused,  and  again  she  burned 
three  books  and  returned,  still  requiring  the  original 
price  for  the  three  that  were  left.  Tarquin  now 
consulted  the  soothsayers,  and,  acting  upon  their 
advice,  bought  the  books,  which  were  found  to  con- 
tain directions  concerning  the  religion  and  policy  of 
Rome. 

For  many  years  they  were  held  sacred,  and  were 
carefully  preserved  in  the  temple  of  Jupiter  in  the 
Capitol,  under  the  care  of  official  guardians.  At 
length  the  temple  was  destroyed  by  fire,  and  the 
original  sibylline  books  perished.  In  the  following 
centuries  they  were  replaced  by  scattered  papers, 
collected  from  time  to  time  in  various  parts  of  the 
empire,  purporting  to  be  the  w^ritings  of  the  sibyl. 
These  sibylline  leaves,  as  they  were  called,  contained 
passages  supposed  to  be  prophetic  of  the  coming  of 
Christ,  and  this  is  why  the  Cum^ean  sibyl  is  placed 
by  Michelangelo  among  the  prophets. 

The  sibyl  is  reading  aloud  from  one  of  her  books 
of  oracles.  The  two  little  s^enii  standinof  behind 
her  shoulder,  and  listening  with  absorbed  attention, 
hold  another  book,  not  yet  unclasped,  ready  for  her. 
She  reads  her  prophecy  with  keen,  searching  eyes, 


72  MICHELANGELO 

and  a  manner  that  is  almost  stern.  We  can  see  in 
the  large,  strong  features  the  determination  of  her 
character. 

It  is  not  a  gentle  face,  and  not  pleasing,  but  it  is 
full  of  meaning.  We  read  there  the  record  of  the 
centuries  which  have  passed  over  her  head,  bringing 
her  the  deep  secrets  of  life.  Yet  the  prophecies 
are  still  unfulfilled,  and  there  is  a  look  of  unsatisfied 
lonjjfino-  in  her  wrinkled  old  face. 

You  will  notice  that  the  outlines  of  the  Cumsean 
sibyl  are  drawn  in  an  oval  figure  similar  to  that 
inclosing  the  Delphic  sibyl.  Here,  however,  the 
oval  is  of  a  more  elongated  form,  and  the  left  side 
is  broken  midway  by  the  introduction  of  the  book. 

The  old  writer  Pausanias,  writing  his  "  Descrip- 
tion of  Greece,"  in  the  second  century,  says  that  the 
people  of  Cumse  showed  a  small  stone  urn  in  the 
temple  of  Apollo  containing  the  ashes  of  the  sibyl. 
For  many  centuries  her  cavern  was  pointed  out  to 
travellers  in  a  rock  under  the  citadel  of  Cumse. 
Finally  the  fortifications  of  the  city  were  under- 
mined, but  to  this  day  a  subterranean  passage  in 
the  rock  on  which  they  were  built  is  still  shown  as 
the  entrance  to  the  sibyl's  cave. 


XIII 


LORENZO    De'    MEDICI 


The  statue  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  is  the  central 
fisrnre  on  the  tomb  erected  to  the  memory  of  this 
prince.  He  was  the  rather  unwortliy  namesake  of 
his  ilhistrious  grandfather,  who  was  known  as 
Lorenzo  the  Magnificent.  The  Medici  family  was 
for  many  generations  the  richest  and  most  powerful 
in  Florence.  They  were  originally  merchants,  and, 
as  the  name  signifies,  physicians,  and,  accumulating 
great  wealth,  they  became  powerful  leaders,  and 
really  the  rulers  of  the  republic. 

Some  of  them  were  munificent  patrons  of  art  and 
literature.  There  was  one  named  Cosimo,  who  did 
so  much  to  make  his  city  famous  that  he  was  called 
Pater  Patriae,  the  father  of  the  country,  as  was, 
centuries  afterwards,  our  own  Washington.  His 
pfrandson  Lorenzo  won  the  title  of  the  Mao-nificent 
for  his  lavish  generosity  and  superb  plans  for  the 
advancement  of  art  and  learning.  So  much  power 
could  not  safely  be  in  the  hands  of  a  single  family. 
The  Medici,  from  being  benefactors,  finally  became 
tyrants. 

The  Lorenzo  of  this  statue  was  one  of  the  more 
insio-nificant  members  of  the  family.  It  is  said  that 
"  he  inherited  the  vices  without  the  genius  of  the 


74  MICHELANCxELO 

family,  and  was  ambitious,  unscrupulous,  and  dissi- 
pated. His  uncle,  Pope  Leo  X.,  after  depriving  the 
Duke  of  Urbino  of  his  hereditary  domains,  bestowed 
them,  with  the  title  of  duke,  on  Lorenzo,  whom  he 
also  made  general  of  the  pontifical  forces."  ^  In 
1518  Leo  united  him  in  marriage  to  a  French  prin- 
cess, and  their  daughter  was  the  afterwards  cele- 
brated Catharine  de'  Medici,  queen  of  the  French 
king,  Henry  II.  These  are  the  main  facts  in  the 
life  of  a  man  who  is  remembered  only  because  he 
had  illustrious  ancestors,  a  famous  daughter,  and  a 
superb  tomb. 

It  mattered  nothinof  to  Michelanofelo  that  he  had 
so  poor  a  subject  for  a  statue.  It  is  supposed  that 
he  made  no  attempt  at  correct  portraiture  in  the 
ficTure.  The  insiof'nificant  Lorenzo  was  transformed 
by  the  magic  of  his  genius  into  a  hero. 

He  wears  a  suit  of  Roman  armor,  in  accordance 
with  his  career  as  a  general  in  the  wars  with  the 
Duke  of  Urbino,  whose  title  he  took.  His  helmet 
is  pulled  well  forward  over  the  brow,  the  head  is 
bent,  the  cheek  rests  upon  the  left  hand,  the  elbow 
supported  on  a  casket  placed  on  the  knee.  With 
finger  laid  thoughtfully  upon  the  lips,  he  is  thinking 
intently.  The  right  hand  rests,  palm  out,  against 
the  knee  in  a  characteristic  position  of  inaction. 

His  mood  is  not  that  of  a  dreamer  lost  to  his  pre- 
sent surroundings.  Rather  he  seems  to  be  keenly 
aware  of  what  is  going  on ;  his  meditations  have  to 
do  with  the  present.  It  is  as  if,  having  given  an 
order,  he  awaits  its  execution,  his  mind  still  intent 

^  Susan  and  Joanna  Horner's  Walks  in  Florence,  vol.  i.  p.  125. 


Alinari.  Photo. 


John  Andrew  i  Son,  Sc, 


LORENZO  DE'  MEDICI 
Church  of  S.  Lorenzo,  Florence 


LORENZO   DE'   MEDICI  77 

upon  his  pui'poses,  satisfied  with  his  decision,  and 
cahnly  expectant  of  its  success.  His  affair  is  one  of 
serious  importance  ;  no  trifling-  niatter  absorbs  the 
thouoht  of  this  li'rave  man.  "A  kino-  sits  in  this  at- 
titude  when,  in  the  midst  of  his  army,  he  orders  the 
execution  of  some  judicial  act,  Hke  the  destruction 
of  a  city.  Frederic  Barbarossa  must  have  appeared 
thus  when  he  caused  Milan  to  be  ploughed  up."  ^ 

The  lack  of  resendjlance  in  the  statue  to  the 
orioinal  duke  Lorenzo  made  it  for  a  lono*  time 
doubful  whether  it  was  intended  to  be  his  tomb. 
The  Florentines,  in  their  poetic  way,  fell  into  the 
habit  of  calling  it  II  Peuslcro,  that  is,  Thought,  or 
Meditation,  sometimes  IJ  Pensieroso,  The  Thinker. 
These  are,  after  all.  the  best  names  for  the  statue, 
which  is  alleo'orical  rather  than  historical  in  its  in- 
tention.  The  great  English  poet  Milton  has  writ- 
ten a  poem,  which  is  like  a  companion  piece  to  the 
statue,  fittino:  it  as  words  sometimes  fit  music.  It 
begins  in  this  w^ay,  in  words  which  //  PenskrosG 
himself  might  speak  :  — 

"  Hence,  vain  deluding  Joys, 
The  brood  of  Folly,  without  father  bred  ! 
How  little  you  bested, 
Or  fill  the  fixi'd  mind  with  all  your  toys  ! 
Dwell  in  some  idle  brain, 
And  fancies  fond  with  gaudy  shape  possess, 
As  thick  and  numberless 
As  the  gay  motes  that  people  the  sunbeams, 
Or  likest  hovering  dreams, 
The  fickle  pensioners  of  Morpheus'  train. 
But  hail  !  thou  Goddess  sage  and  holy, 
Hail,  divinest  Melancholy  !  " 

1  Taiue,  Travels  in  Itdtij. 


78  MICHELANGELO 

Lorenzo's  statue  stands  in  a  niche  above  the  sar- 
cophagus, or  stone  coffin,  in  which  his  body  was 
laid.  On  the  top  of  the  sarcophagus  are  two  reclin- 
inof  fiofures  called  Dawn  and  Twilio'ht.  The  tomb 
itself  is  in  a  chapel,  or  sacristy,  called  the  New 
Sacristy  (to  distinguish  it  from  one  still  older),  in 
the  Church  of  S.  Lorenzo,  Florence.  The  entire 
sacristy  is  devoted  to  the  memory  of  the  Medici 
family,  who  had  for  several  generations  been  bene- 
factors of  this  church. 

Now  Michelanoelo  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with 
this  family  first  and  last,  and  his  work  on  the  tomb 
has  an  additional  interest  on  this  account.  It  was 
to  Lorenzo  the  Mao-nificent  that  he  owed  his  first 
start  as  a  sculptor  in  an  academy  founded  by  this 
prince.  He  so  pleased  his  patron  that  he  was  re- 
ceived into  the  duke's  own  household,  and  treated 
almost  like  a  son.  Years  passed ;  Lorenzo  had  long 
been  dead,  when,  one  after  another,  two  members  of 
the  same  family  came  to  the  papal  throne,  and  they 
desired  to  honor  their  name  by  employing  the  great- 
est sculptor  of  Italy  in  this  monumental  work. 

So  Michelangelo  began  designs  for  the  sacristy, 
the  entire  decoration  of  which  was  intrusted  to  him. 
The  walls  of  the  rooms  were  panelled  with  marble, 
set  with  niches,  in  the  form  of  windows,  in  wdiich 
the  statues  were  to  be  placed. 

As  the  work  proceeded,  it  was  interrupted  by 
some  strange  incidents,  of  which  we  shall  hear  later. 
The  whole  plan  Avas  never  fully  carried  out,  but  in 
spite  of  incompleteness  the  chapel  is  a  grand  and 
impressive  place. 


XIV 

THE    TOMB    OF    GIULIANO    De'    MEDICI 

The  tomb  of  Giuliano  de'  Medici  is  the  companion 
to  the  tomb  of  Lorenzo,  and  stands  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  altar  which  separates  them.  Our  ilhis- 
tration  shows  the  entire  work,  the  statue  being  in 
the  niche  above,  and  the  sarcophagus  standing  below 
with  two  reclinino'  fio-ures  on  it. 

Giuliano  de'  Medici,  duke  of  Nemours,  was  the 
youngest  son  of  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  and  con- 
sequently the  uncle  of  the  younger  Lorenzo.  In 
reality  he  was  greatly  superior  to  his  nephew,  but 
curiously  enough  his  appearance  in  Michelangelo's 
statue  is  more  commonplace,  though  his  attitude  is 
graceful.  He  was  a  thoughtful  man,  somewhat 
melancholy  in  disposition,  and  the  author  of  a  poem 
on  suicide.  He  wears  the  costume  of  a  Roman 
general,  but  his  small  head  and  slender  throat  are 
not  those  of  a  warrior. 

You  will  notice  that  the  attitude  of  the  duke 
Giuliano  is  somewhat  similar  to  that  of  Moses. 
Both  sit  with  left  foot  drawn  back  and  right  knee 
extended.  Both  turn  the  head  in  profile,  looking 
intently  toward  the  left.  In  either  case  it  is  easy  to 
imagine  the  figure  suddenly  springing  up. 

Now  this  fact  emphasizes  the  difference  we  have 


80         ■  MICHELANGELO 

already  noted  between  the  sculpture  of  Michelangelo 
and  that  of  the  Greeks.  The  leading-  idea  in  Greek 
sculpture  was  that  of  repose,  while,  as  we  have  seen 
in  the  David  and  the  Cupid,  Michelangelo  chose  for 
his  figures  a  moment  of  action.  To  give  this  sug- 
gestion of  motion  to  a  seated  figure  is  even  more 
remarkable  than  in  the  case  of  one  standing,  for  the 
sitting  posture  naturally  has  an  effect  of  stability. 

The  reclining  figures  on  the  sarcophagus  of  the 
Duke  Giuliano  represent  Night  and  Day,  and  are 
supposed  to  be  symbolic  of  death  and  resurrection. 
Night  is  a  woman  lying  with  head  sunk  upon  the 
breast  in  a  deep  sleep.  She  is  crowned  with  a  cres- 
cent moon  and  star,  and  an  owl  is  placed  at  her  feet. 
The  mask  beneath  her  pillow  symbolizes  the  body 
from  which  the  spirit  has  departed.  Though  the 
fiofure  is  not  beautiful  in  the  Greek  sense,  it  is  grand 
and  queenly.  Opposite  is  Day,  an  unfinished  cap- 
tive, his  head  half  freed  from  the  stone,  the  arms 
rigid,  the  body  contorted. 

These  two  figures,  together  with  Dawn  and  Twi- 
light on  Lorenzo's  tomb,  have  an  allegorical  meaning 
which  must  be  read  in  the  light  of  Michelangelo's 
own  life  history.  "  Life  is  a  dream  between  two 
slumbers  ;  sleep  is  death's  twin-brother ;  night  is  the 
shadow  of  death ;  death  is  the  gate  of  life  —  such 
is  the  mysterious  mythology  wrought  by  the  sculp- 
tor." ' 

The  work  on  the  Medicean  tombs  covered  a  period 
of  about  twelve  years.     During  this  time  the  Medici 

^  Symonds,  in  Renaissance  in  Italy:  the  Fine  Arts. 


Alinnri,  Photo. 


John  Andrew  k  Son.  Sc. 


TOMB  OF  GIULIANO  DE'  MEDICI 

Church  of  S.  Lorenzo,  Florence 


THE  TOMB   OF  GIULIANO   DFJ   MEDICI  83 

family  passed  through  varying  fortunes,  and  in  con- 
sequence the  fate  of  the  tombs,  and  indeed  that  of 
the  sculptor  himself,  hung  in  the  balance.  Florence 
became  weary  of  tyranny  and  rose  in  a  revolution 
which  drove  the  Medici  from  the  city  in  lij'21. 

Success  was  of  short  duration  :  the  republic  soon 
"  found  herself  standing^  out  agfainst  a  world  of 
foes,"  the  Pope,  Clement  VII.  (himself  a  Medici), 
"  threatenino'  fire  and  flame,"  and  all  the  Medici 
family  "  getting  ready  to  return  in  double  force." 
The  Florentines  prepared  to  fight  for  their  liberty, 
and  Michelangelo  was  found  among  the  patriots. 
No  sense  of  personal  gratitude  to  the  Medici  could 
shake  his  love  of  liberty.  He  forsook  the  monu- 
ments and  turned  his  skill  to  the  fortification  of  the 
city. 

For  eleven  months  Florence  was  besieged,  and  in 
the  end  the  city  was  captured.  The  Medici  returned 
conquerors.  Mercenaries  now  broke  into  the  houses, 
kilHnof  the  best  citizens.  Had  not  Michelanoelo 
been  in  hiding,  he  too  would  have  perished.  But 
the  Pope  could  not  afford  to  lose  his  best  sculptor, 
and,  calling  him  forth  from  his  hiding-place,  again 
set  him  to  work  in  the  Medici  chapel.  It  is  not 
strange  that  the  sculptor's  proud  spirit  rebelled  at 
having  to  work  on  that  which  was  to  honor  the  ene- 
mies of  his  beloved  Florence. 

Thus  it  was  that  his  sculpture  told  the  story  of 
"  the  tragedy  of  Florence  :  how  hope  had  departed, 
how  life  had  become  a  desert,  and  how  it  was  hard 
to  struggle  with  waking  consciousness,  but  good  to 


84  MICHELANGELO 

sleep  and  forget  —  nay,  best  of  all,  to  be  stone  and 
feel  no  more." 

The  old  writer  Vasari,  who  was  once  a  pupil  of 
Michelangelo,  and  tells  us  many  anecdotes  of  the 
sculptor,  relates  that  when  the  statue  of  Night  was 
first  shown  to  the  public,  it  called  forth  a  verse  from 
a  contemporary  poet  (Giovan  Battista  Strozzi)o 
This  is  the  verse  :  — 

"  Night  in  so  sweet  an  attitude  beheld 
Asleep,  was  by  an  angel  sculptured 
In  this  stone;  and  sleeping,  is  alive; 
Waken  her,  doubter;  she  will  speak  to  thee."  ^ 

To  this  Michelangelo  replied  in  the  following 
lines  :  -  — 

"  Welcome  is  sleep,  more  welcome  sleep  of  stone 
Whilst  crime  and  shame  continue  in  the  land; 
ISIy  happy  fortune  not  to  see  or  hear; 
Waken  me  not;  —  in  mercy  whisper  low."  ^ 

The  artist's  verse  may  be  taken  as  a  keynote  to 
the  solemn  tragedy  of  the  work.  In  fact,  the  monu- 
ments are  not  really  to  Lorenzo  and  Giuliano,  but 
to  Florence,  to  "  the  great  city  which  had  struggled 
and  erred  so  long,  Avhicli  had  gone  astray  and  re- 
pented, and  suffered,  and  erred  again,  but  always 
mightily,  with  full  tide  of  life  in  her  veins  and  con- 
sciousness in  her  heart,  until  now  the  time  had  come 
when  she  was  dead  and  past,  chained  down  by  icy 
oppression  in  a  living  grave."  ^ 

1  Both   translations  are   from   Horners'  Walks   in    Florence.      Sy 
monds  has  also  translated  the  verses,  but  less  literally. 

^  Swinburne  in  his  lines,  "  In   San  Lorenzo,"  answers  these  line.- 
"Is  thine  hour  come  to  waken,  slumbering  Night?" 

"  This    and    the    preceding  quotations   are   from  Mrs.   Oliphant 
Makers  of  Florence. 


XV 

CENTRAL    FIGURES    IN    THE    LAST    JUDGMENT 

There  are  in  the  Bible  certain  references  to  a 
great  clay  when  the  Son  of  Man  shall  be  seen  "  com- 
ing in  the  clouds  with  great  power  and  glory." 
"  And  he  shall  send  his  angels  with  a  great  sound 
of  a  trumpet,  and  they  shall  gather  together  his 
elect  from  the  four  winds,  from  one  end  of  heaven 
to  the  other."  ^  St.  Paul,  in  a  letter  which  he  wrote 
to  the  Christians  in  Corinth,  speaks  of  this  as  a 
"  mystery,"  and  says  : '"  "  We  shall  not  all  sleep,  but 
we  shall  all  be  changed,  in  a  moment,  in  the  twin- 
kling of  an  eye,  at  the  last  trump  :  for  the  trumpet 
shall  sound,  and  the  dead  shall  be  raised  incorrupt- 
ible, and  we  shall  be  chano-ed." 

In  the  Middle  Ages  these  passages  were  interpreted 
very  literally  and  had  a  great  influence  over  the 
people.  At  that  time  the  Christian  religion  was  a 
religion  of  fear  rather  than  of  love,  and  men  were 
continually  picturing  in  their  minds  God's  angry 
separation  of  the  good  from  the  wicked. 

How  much  such  thoughts  occupied  them  we  may 
see  from  Dante's  great  poem  describing  a  vision  of 

1  Matthew,  chapter  xxiv.  verse  31. 

2  1  Corinthians,  chapter  xv.  verses  51,  52. 


86  michelangp:lo 

the  Inferno,  Purgatory,  and  Paradise.  This  was 
written  in  the  thirteenth  century,  and  in  the  same 
period  appeared  a  short  Latin  lyric,  or  hymn,  called 
"  Dies  Irae,"  or  the  Day  of  Wrath,  from  an  expres- 
sion used  by  the  old  Hebrew  prophet  Zephaniah. 
The  author  was  a  Franciscan  monk  named  Thomas 
of  Celano,  and  we  may  see  how  deeply  he  felt  from 
these  verses :  — 

"Ah  !  what  terror  is  impending 
When  the  Judge  is  seen  descending, 
And  each  secret  veil  is  rending. 

"  To  the  throne,  the  trumpet  sounding, 
Through  the  sepulchres  resounding. 
Summons  all,  with  voice  astounding. 

"  Sits  the  Judge,  the  raised  arraigning. 
Darkest  mysteries  explaining. 
Nothing  unavenged  remaining." 

This  vivid  word  picture  forms  the  subject  of  many 
great  paintings  by  the  older  Italian  masters,  known 
under  the  title  of  the  Last  Judgment.  Michelan- 
gelo's was  one  of  the  last  of  these,  and  in  general 
arrangement  his  composition  resembles  those  of  his 
predecessors. 

From  the  upper  air  a  company  of  angels  descends, 
carrying  a  cross,  a  crown  of  thorns,  and  other  instru- 
ments of  the  Saviour's  sufferings.  Below  them  is 
the  Judge  himself  surrounded  by  the  apostles  and 
other  saints.  Underneath  are  the  archangels  blow- 
ing their  trumpets.  On  earth,  in  the  lowest  part  of 
the  picture  at  the  left,  the  dead  rise  from  their 
graves   and   ascend   through  the  air  to  the  Judge. 


Alinari,  Photo. 


JoLn  AmlrtiT  i,  6</n,  Sc. 


CENTRAL  FIGURES  OF  THE  LAST  JUDGMENT 
Sistirie  Cliapcl,  /\o»ie 


CENTRAL   FIGURES   IN  THE   LAST  JUDGMENT     89 

At  the  right,  opposite  the  ascending  dead,  are  the 
condemned  sinners,  descending  to  the  boat  which 
will  carry  them  over  the  river  Styx  into  the  Inferno. 

Our  illustration  gives  only  the  central  figures  in 
this  great  multitude,  the  Divine  Judge  accompanied 
by  his  mother.  He  is  a  man  of  mighty  muscular 
power,  young  and  handsome,  with  an  expression  of 
imperious  dignity.  Enthroned  on  the  clouds,  he 
seems  just  rising  from  a  sitting  posture  to  execute 
his  judgments.  He  lifts  his  arms  in  a  sweeping 
motion  as  if  to  part  the  multitudes  pressing  upon 
him  on  both  sides.  In  so  doing  he  shows  the  wound 
in  his  right  side  made  by  the  soldier's  spear  at  the 
crucifixion.  Neither  expression  nor  gesture  mani- 
fests anger  ;  those  beautiful  hands  with  delicately 
extended  fino-ers  will  strike  no  blow.  The  "esture 
itself  is  a  command. 

Beneath  Christ's  upraised  arm,  on  his  right  side, 
sits  his  Mother  Mary.  Each  must  interpret  for 
himself  her  attitude  and  expression.  Some  think 
that  because  she  turns  her  face  away  she  is  shrink- 
ing from  her  son  in  terror.  Yet  her  expression  is  so 
gentle  that  others  say  she  is  nestlino;  close  to  him 
for  protection.  This  is  certainly  as  w^e  should  im- 
agine the  situation.  When  she  was  a  young  mother, 
she  w^as  })roud  to  take  care  of  her  child.  And 
now  on  this  great  day  she  is  equally  proud  to  let 
him  take  care  of  her.  As  he  clung  to  her,  his 
mother,  so  she  now  clings  to  him,  the  Judge. 

Looking  at  the  composition  of  the  picture,  we 
see  that  her  figure  completes  a  pyramid,  whose  apex 


90  MICHELANGELO 

is  the  u[)lifted  hand  of  the  Judge,  and  whose  hase 
lies  along  the  cloud  supporting  liis  feet  and  hers. 
This  gives  proper  stability  to  the  figures  which 
dominate  the  whole  great  jiicture.  Considered  in 
a  larger  way,  the  pyramid  is  itself  the  upper  part 
of  a  long  oval  which  keeps  the  central  group  apart 
from  the  surroundins:  host. 

The  picture  of  the  Last  Judgment  was  painted  by 
Michelangelo  on  the  end  wall  of  the  Sistine  Chapel, 
over  the  altar,  nearly  twenty  years  after  the  com- 
pletion of  the  ceiling  frescoes.  There  is  a  great  dif- 
ference between  the  two  works.  The  liii-ures  on  the 
ceiling  are  strong  and  powerful,  their  attitudes 
spirited  and  graceful.  Those  in  the  Last  Judgment 
are  huo-e  and  cumbersome,  their  attitudes  strained 
and  violent.  The  entire  effect  of  the  vast  company 
of  colossal  figures  is  awe-inspiring,  but  not  pleasing. 

It  is  a  relief  to  fix  our  eyes  upon  the  central 
portion.  Here  the  painter  expressed  an  idea  at 
once  noble  and  original.  The  figure  of  the  Christ 
has  not  the  delicate  beauty  of  the  dead  Christ  in 
the  Pieta,  or  the  finished  elegance  of  the  Christ  Tri- 
umphant, but  he  has  the  splendid  vigor  of  a  force- 
ful character.  The  Mother,  less  grand  and  noble 
than  in  the  bereavement  of  the  Pieta,  less  proud 
than  in  her  young  motherhood,  is  a  gentle  and 
lovely  creature.  Thus  the  intensely  masculine  is 
completed  by  the  delicately  feminine,  and  the  artist 
shows  us  ideal  types  of  manhood  and  womanhood. 


XVI 

PORTRAIT 

In  the  pictures  of  this  collection  we  have  learned 
something  of  the  work  of  Michelangelo  as  a  sculptor 
and  a  painter.  He  was  an  artist  whose  personality 
was  so  strongly  impressed  upon  his  work  that  we 
have  come  thus  to  know,  to  a  certain  extent,  the 
man  himself.  His,  as  we  have  seen,  was  not  a 
happy  nature,  and  many  of  the  circumstances  of  his 
life  conspired  against  his  happiness. 

In  his  early  youth  he  seemed  strangely  aware  of 
his  own  superior  gifts  and  was  often  so  overbearing 
that  he  made  enemies.  The  story  is  told  of  a  quar- 
rel he  had  with  a  young  num  named  Torrigiano,  in 
whose  company  he  was  copying  some  frescoes  in  a 
church  in  Florence.  Stung  by  some  tormenting 
words  of  Michelano'elo,  Torrio-iano  retaliated  with  a 
blow  of  the  fist,  which  crushed  his  companion's  nose, 
and  disfiii'ured  him  for  life. 

Michelangelo's  real  education  began  in  the  palace 
of  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  who  discovered  the 
lad's  talent  and  made  him  a  favorite.  '^  He  sat  at 
the  same  table  with  Ficino,  Pico,  and  Poliziano,  lis- 
tenin<r  to  dialoo-ues  on  Plato,  and  drinkino-  in  the 
golden  poetry  of  Greece.  Greek  literature  and 
philosophy,  expounded  by  the  men  who  had  discov- 


92  MICHELANGELO 

ered  them,  first  moulded  his  mind  to  those  lofty 
thouiihts  which  it  became  the  task  of  his  life  to 
express  in  form.  At  the  same  time  he  heard  the 
preaching  of  Savonarola.  In  the  Duomo  and  the 
cloister  of  S.  Marco  another  portion  of  his  soul  was 
touched,  and  he  acquired  that  deep  religious  tone 
which  gives  its  majesty  and  terror  to  the  Sistine."  * 
In  the  gardens  of  S.  Marco  he  had  Lorenzo's  fine 
collection  of  antiquities  to  study,  and  learned  from 
them  the  secrets  of  Greek  sculpture. 

In  all  these  opportunities  it  would  seem  that 
Michelangelo  was  a  most  fortunate  person.  Nor 
did  he  lack  proper  appreciation  ;  the  Pieta  placed 
him  at  once  on  a  pinnacle  of  fame,  and  the  David 
was  heartily  admired. 

It  was  when  he  entered  the  service  of  the  Pope 
that  his  troubles  beo-an.  He  was  never  thereafter  a 
free  man.  His  genius  was  at  the  disposition  of  a 
series  of  men,  each  ambitious  for  his  own  fame, 
and  caring  little  for  the  artist's  personal  aspirations. 
His  proud  nature  was  bitterly  humiliated  by  this 
sacrifice  of  his  independence.  Sometimes  he  openly 
rebelled,  but  in  the  end  was  always  obliged  to  yield 
to  papal  authority. 

Michelangelo's  sternly  upright  spirit  found  also 
much  to  sadden  him  in  the  corruption  of  the  times. 
He  was  a  lover  of  righteousness  as  well  as  a  lover 
of  liberty,  and  he  greatly  mourned  the  evils  which 
surrounded  him. 

One  of  the  pleasantest  traits  in  his  character  was 

1  Symonds,  in  Renaissance  in  Italy:   The  Fine  Arts. 


PORTRAIT  93 

his  warm  affection  for  the  members  of  his  family 
and  f(n'  the  few  whom  he  honored  with  his  friend- 
ship. One  of  the  hitter  was  Vittoria  Colonna,  a 
woman  of  strong  and  beautiful  character,  who 
brought  much  brightness  into  his  life. 

Our  portrait  shows  him  somewhat  past  middle  life 
when  occupied  with  many  important  concerns.  We 
can  read  in  the  face  something  of  the  character  of 
the  man.  It  is  certainly  not  a  handsome  face,  for 
any  good  looks  he  might  once  have  boasted  were 
destroyed  by  his  broken  nose.  It  is  nevertheless  a 
face  full  of  rugged  strength,  with  not  a  little  kindli- 
ness in  the  expression.  Here  is  a  man  whose  enmity 
we  should  avoid,  but  whose  friendship  we  should 
value  above  rubies. 

It  is  the  face  of  a  lonely  man.  Michelangelo  had 
to  suffer  the  loneliness  of  genius.  No  one  could 
fully  understand  him.  He  stood  apart,  towering 
like  a  "iant  above  his  fellow  men. 

On  the  four  hundredth  anniversary  of  Michelan- 
gelo's birthday,  some  verses  were  written  by  an 
American  poet,  Christopher  Cranch,  which  one 
should  read  while  looking  at  this  portrait :  — 

"  Tliis  is  the  rugged  face 
Of  liiin  who  won  a  place 
Above  all  kings  and  lords; 
Whose  various  skill  and  power 
Left  Italy  a  dower 
No  numbers  can  compute,  no  tongue  translate  in  words 

*'  Patient  to  train  and  school 
His  genius  to  the  rule 
Art's  sternest  laws  required; 


94  MICHELANGELO 

Yet,  by  no  custom  chuined, 

llis  darin<j  hand  disdained 

The  academic  forms  by  tamer  souls  admired. 

"  In  llis  interior  light 
Awoke  those  shapes  of  might 
Once  known  that  never  die; 
Forms  of  titanic  birth, 
The  elder  brood  of  earth. 
That  fill  tiie  mind  more  grandly  than  they  charm  the  eye. 

"  Yet  when  the  master  chose. 
Ideal  graces  rose 
Like  flowers  on  gnarled  boughs; 
For  he  was  nursed  and  fed 
At  beauty's  fountain  head 
And  to  the  goddess  pledged  his  earliest  warmest  vows." 

The  poet  describes  still  further  the  artist's  char- 
acter, and  then  eninnerates  some  of  his  great  works. 
Whatever  occupied  him  — 

"  Still  proudly  poised,  he  stepped 
The  way  his  vision  swept, 
And  scorned  the  narrower  view. 
He  touched  with  glory  all 
That  pope  or  cardinal, 
With  lower  aim  than  his,  allotted  him  to  do. 


"  So  stood  this  Angelo 
Four  hundred  years  ago; 
So  grandly  still  he  stands, 
Alid  lesser  worlds  of  art, 
Colossal  and  apart, 
Like  Memnon  breathing  songs  across  the  desert  sandSo*' 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY  OF  PROPER  NAMES 
AND  FOREIGN  WORDS 


The  Diacritical  Marks  given  are  those  found  in  tlie  latest  edition  of  Webster's  Inter- 
national  Dictionary. 

EXPLANATION   OF   DIACRITICAL   MARKS. 

A  Dasli  (~)  above  tlie  von  el  denotes  the  long  sound,  as  in  fate,  eve,  time,  note,  iise. 

A  Dash  and  a  Dot  C^)  above  the  vowel  denote  the  same  sound,  less  prolonged. 

A  Curve  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  tlie  sliort  sound,  as  in  Sdd,  gnd.  Til,  odd,  up. 

A  Dot  (■)  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  obscure  sound  of  a  in  past,  abiite,  .\merica. 

A  Double  Dot  (■■)above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  broad  sound  of  a  in  liitlier,  alms. 

A  Double  Dot  (..)  below  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  sound  of  a  in  ball. 

A  Wave  (~)  above  the  vowel  e  denotes  the  sound  of  e  in  lier. 

A  Circumflex  Accent  {")  above  the  vowel  o  denotes  the  sound  of  o  in  born. 

^  sounds  like  s. 

■e  sounds  like  k. 

g  .sounds  like  z. 

g;  is  liard  as  in  get. 

g  is  soft  as  in  gem. 


Ado'ms. 

^neas  (6  iie'as)  ;  j?^]neid  (6  ne'id). 

Ani'azon. 

Ajii'bro.se^ 

An'athoth. 

Anehises  (Jin  ki'sez). 

An'no  Doni'hn. 

Apol'lo. 

Ap'pian. 

Ai'iniathe'a. 

Babylon  (bab'i  lun) ;  Babylo'nian. 

Biirbaros'.sa. 

Bars:elio. 

Beethoven  (ba'toviin). 

Belshaz'zar. 

Beth'leheni. 

Beth-pe'or. 

Bramante  ibrji  nian'tii). 

Bngiardini  (b'T7)  j-ir  de'nfii. 

Buonarroti  ihoi)  6  niir  rot'e). 

Canaan  fka'nan  or  kii/na  an), 
('iirra'ra. 

Celano  (cba  la'no). 
Cencio,  Bernardo  (b?r  niir'do   chen'- 
che  6). 


Clialdean  (\ii\  de'an). 

Colonna,  Vittoria  (vet  to're  a  ko  Ion'- 

niii. 
Condivi  (kon  de'v?). 
Cosimo  (kiVze  mo). 
( 'risto  Kisorto  (kres'to   r6  zor'to). 
<'iini;e  (kii'ine). 
Cyrus  (si'rus). 

Haniel  (dan'vel  or  dan'I  e!). 

J)an'te. 

Daphne  (daf'ne). 

DariTis. 

]  )e'lian. 

IVlpbi  (del'fi). 

1  tc'mos. 

Dies  Ir.e  fde'as  e'ri  or  di'ez  T're). 

Dionitifi,  di  San  (de  sjin  de  o  ne'jr')- 

Doniinp.  (jno   vadis  (dd'nie  nfi,    kwfl 

wa'dis  or  doin'i  ne.  kvvd  va'  dis^ 
Dfini.  Ansrelo  (iin'ja  lo  dd'ne). 
Douay  ithTo  a'). 
Duonio  (d(H)  o'lno). 

E'ros. 

Febbre,  della  fdella  feb'bra) 


96 


PRONOUNCING   VOCABULARY 


Fieino  (fe  che'no). 

Franciscan  (t'ran  sis'kan). 

Frizzi,  Federigo  (fa  da  re'go  fret'se). 

Giovanni  fjo  viin'ns). 
Giuliano  (jolt  16  ii'no). 
Goli'ath 
Gotti  (got'te). 
Gualfonda  (gwal  f5n'da). 

Hel'lespont. 
Huguenot  (hii'ge  not). 

Infgr'no. 
Isaiah  (i  za'ya). 
Israel  (iz'ra  el). 

Jameson  (ja'me  sun). 

Jehoi'akim. 

Jereml'ah. 

Jerome  (je  rom'  cr  jer'om). 

Jerusalem. 

JS'thrG. 

Jdsi'ah. 

Judpea  (ju  de'a). 

Ju'dali. 

Ju'pitSr. 

Kugler  (koog'lSr). 

Lazarus. 
Lsan'dgr. 
Lom'bardg. 

Mag'dalsne. 

Median. 

Medici  (ma'ds  die). 

Mem'non. 

Me'ne. 

Michelangelo  (me  kel  an'ja  lo). 

Mid'iAn. 

Milan  (mTl'an  or  nn  Ian')- 

Milanesi  (me  liinazS). 

Mo'ab. 

Morpheus  (mor'fus). 

Naz'areth. 

Ne'bo. 

Nebuchadnezzar  (neb  u  kad  nez'zar). 

Nemour  (ne  m(K)r'). 

Ne'ro. 

Oliphant  (ol'i  fant). 

Palazzo  Veccliio  (pa  lat'so  vek'ke  6). 
Palestine. 

Pater    Patriae     (pa'tar    pa'tre  i     or 
pa't6r  pa'tri  e). 


Pausanias  (pa  sa'nT  as). 

Pensiero,  II  (el  pen  s3  a'rO)  ■,  Pensis' 

roso  (pen  s6  a  ro'xb). 
Pharaoh  (fa'rO). 
Philis  tine. 
Piazza  della  Signoria  (pe  at'sa  dSl'la 

s5n  yo  re'a). 
Pico  (pe'koj. 
Pietk  (p6  a  ta'). 
Pietro  in  Vincoli  (pe  a'tro  en  ven'- 

kole). 
Pitti,  Bartolommeo  (bar  t6  lom  ma'C 

pet'te). 
Pla  tG. 

Poliziano  (p6  let  s6  a'no) 
pyth'i  a. 

Raphael  (ra/fa  el). 
Rucellai  (roo  cliel  Iji'e), 

Sac'rist5'. 

8antarelli  (san  ta  rel'le). 

Savonarola  (sii  v6  na  ro'la).  _ 

iSeappuci,  Mario  (mare  6  skap  poo'' 
che). 

Ses'tos. 

Sib'yK 

Sim'eon. 

Sistine  (sTs'ten). 

Solari,  Cristoforo  (kres  tof'6  ro  so- 
la're). 

Stabat  Mater  (sta'bat  ma'tgr  or  sta'- 
biitma'tur). 

Strozzi,  (jiovan  Battista  (jo  van'  bat 
tes'ta  strSt'se). 

Styx. 

Swiii'burne. 

Sym'6iid§. 

Tarqiiin  (tar'kwin). 

te'kel. 

terribilith,  (ter  re  be  le  ta')- 

Torrigiano  (tor  r6  ja'no). 

Uffizi(o"of  fet'se). 
Upharsin  (u  far'sm).  _ 

Urbano,  Pietro  (pe  a'tro  oorba'no). 
Urbino  (oor  be'nO). 

Var.i  dei  PorcaTi,  Metello  (ma  teVlt 

vti're  da'  e  por  ka're). 
Vasari  (vii  sa're). 
Vatican  (vat'i  kan). 
Virgil  (vgr'jil). 
Vul'gate. 

Zedeki'ah. 
I  Zepbaniah  (zef  a  n1  a) 


TITIAN 

1477-1576 


From  carbon  print  bj  liraun,  CleuitMit  \  *_ 


Jubu  Auururf  Jt  Son,  oc. 


TITIAN 

Prado  Gallery,  Madyid 


THE    PHYSICIAN    PARMA 

We  are  about  to  study  a  few  pictures  reproduced 
from  the  works  of  a  g-reat  Venetiau  painter  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  —  Titian.  The  span  of  this  man's 
hfe  covered  nearly  a  hundred  years,  from  l-iTT  to 
1576,  a  period  when  Venice  was  a  rich  and  powerf  lU 
city.  The  Venetians  were  a  pleasure-loving-  people, 
fond  of  pomp  and  dis])lay.  They  delighted  in  sumj)- 
tuous  entertainments,  and  w^ere  particularly  given  to 
pageants.  We  read  of  the  picturesque  processions 
that  paraded  the  square  of  St.  Mark's,  or  floated  in 
g-ondolas  along  the  grand  canal.  The  city  was  full 
of  fine  buildings,  palaces,  churches,  and  public  halls. 
Their  richlv  ornamented  fronts  of  colored  marbles, 
Bordering  the  blue  water  of  the  canals,  made  a  bril- 
liant panorama  of  color.  The  buildings  were  no  less 
beautiful  within  than  without,  being  filled  with  the 
splendid  paintings  of  the  Venetian  masters. 

The  pictures  in  the  churches  and  monasteries 
illustrated  sacred  story  and  the  lives  of  the  saints  ; 
those  in  the  public  halls  depicted  historical  and 
allegorical  themes,  while  the  private  palaces  were 
adorned  with  mythological  scenes  and  portraits. 

Titian  engaged  in  works  of  all  these  kinds,  and 
seemed  equally  skilful  in  each.     The  great  number 


2  TITIAN 

and  variety  of  liis  pictures  bring  vividly  before  us 
the  manners  and  customs  of  his  times.  His  art  is 
like  a  great  mirror  in  which  Venice  of  the  sixteenth 
century  is  clearly  reflected  in  all  her  magnificence. 
As  we  study  our  little  prints,  we  must  bear  in  mind 
that  the  original  paintings  glow  with  rich  and 
harmonious  color.  As  far  as  possible  let  us  try  to 
supply  this  lost  color  from  our  imagination. 

Nearly  all  the  notable  personages  of  the  time  sat 
to  Titian  for  their  portraits,  —  emperors,  queens,  and 
princes,  pojies,  and  cardinals,  the  doges,  or  dukes, 
of  Venice,  noblemen,  poets,  and  fair  women.  Wear- 
ing the  costumes  of  a  bygone  age,  these  men  and 
women  look  out  of  their  canvases  as  if  they  were 
still  living,  breathing  human  beings.  The  painter 
endowed  them  with  the  magic  gift  of  immortahty. 
Though  the  names  of  many  of  the  sitters  are  now 
foro^otten,  and  we  know  little  or  nothing-  of  their 
lives,  they  are  still  real  persons  to  us,  with  their  life 
history  written  on  tlieir  faces. 

Such  is  the  man  called  Parma,  who  is  believed  to 
have  been  a  physician  of  Titian's  time,  but  whose 
only  biography  is  this  portrait.  If  we  were  told  that 
it  was  the  portrait  of  some  eminent  physician  now 
practising  in  New  York  or  London,  we  should  per- 
haps be  equally  ready  to  believe  it.  We  might  meet 
such  a  fioure  in  our  streets  to-morrow.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  costume  to  mark  it  as  peculiar  to  any 
century  or  country.  The  black  gown  is  such  as  is 
still  worn  bv  clerg-vmen  and  universitv  men.  The 
man  would  not  have  to  be  pointed  out  to  us  as  a 


Fr.  Uanfat&iJDt;!.  pLuto 


John  Audrew  &  8ud,  ftc. 


THE  PHYSICIAN  PARMA 
/  'ieniia  Gallery 


THE   PHYSICIAN    PARMA  3 

celebrity  ;  we  should  know  him  at  once  as  a  person 
of  distinction. 

The  science  of  medicine  was  making  great  pro- 
gress during  the  sixteenth  century.  It  was  then 
that  the  subject  of  anatomy  was  first  developed  by 
the  celebrated  Fleming,  Vesalius,  court  physician  to 
Charles  V.^  In  this  period,  also,  the  science  of  chem- 
istry first  came  to  be  separated  from  alchemy,  and 
progressive  physicians  applied  the  new  learning  to 
their  practice. 

We  may  be  sure  that  our  Doctor  Parma  belonged 
to  the  most  enlightened  class  of  his  profession.  His 
strono'  intellectual  face  shows  him  to  be  one  who 
would  have  little  patience  with  quackery  or  supersti- 
tion. He  has  a  high,  noble  forehead,  keen,  pene- 
trating eyes,  and  a  firm  mouth.  His  beautiful  white 
hair  gives  him  a  venerable  aspect,  though  he  is  not 
of  o'reat  ao;e.  It  blows  about  his  face  as  fine  and 
light  as  gossamer.  He  is  an  ideal  "  family  physi- 
cian," of  a  generation  ago.  We  can  imagine  how 
children  would  learn  to  look  upon  him  with  love 
and  respect,  perhaps  also  with  a  little  wholesome 
fear. 

The  hand  which  holds  the  folds  of  the  lonof, 
black  o'own  has  a  character  of  its  own  as  definite  as 
that  of  the  face.  It  is  a  strong,  firm  hand,  which 
looks  capable  of  guiding  skilfully  a  surgeon's  knife. 

^  As  tlie  various  so-called  portraits  of  Vesalius  are  said  to  have 
little  in  common  upon  which  to  base  a  resemblance,  one  is  almost 
tempted  to  set  up  a  theory- that  this  portrait  may  be  that  of  the  great 
anatomist. 


6  TITIAN 

Two  fine  seal  ring's  ornament  it.  Such  rings,  some- 
times of  curious  design  and  workmanship,  were 
often  bestowed  as  gifts  by  wealthy  noblemen  upon 
those  who  had  done  them  some  service. 

The  doctor  Parma  looks  as  s^ood  as  he  is  wise. 
This  benign  face  would  grace  an  assembly  of  nota- 
ble clergymen.  Indeed,  the  picture  suggests  a  well- 
known  portrait  of  the  great  John  Wesley,  whose 
features  were  cast  in  the  same  strong  mould,  and 
who  also  had  an  abundance  of  bushy  white  hair. 

By  another  play  of  the  fancy  we  could  imagine 
this  a  portrait  of  some  eminent  judge.  There  is 
that  in  the  face  which  indicates  the  calm,  impartial, 
deliberate  mind  that  belongs  to  the  character.  He 
might  now  be  about  to  charge  the  jury,  or  perhaps 
even  to  pronounce  sentence. 

Still  another  opinion  is  that  here  we  have  a  Vene- 
tian senator  in  his  official  robes.  The  man  is  in  any 
case  an  ideal  professional  man,  a  person  of  brains 
and  character,  who  could  fill  equally  well  a  position 
of  responsibility  in  medicine,  law,  administrative 
affairs,  or  divinity.  With  a  strict  sense  of  justice,  a 
stern  contempt  for  anything  mean  and  base,  and  a 
fatherly  tenderness  for  the  weak  and  oppressed,  he 
is  one  in  whom  we  could  safely  put  confidence. 


n 

THE    PRESENTATIOX    OF    THE    VIRGIN 

{Detail) 

In  the  town  of  Nazareth  many  centuries  ago  lived 
a  pious  old  couple,  named  Joachim  and  Anna.  It 
is  said  that  they  "  divided  all  their  substance  in  three 
parts  :  "  one  part  "  for  the  temple,"  another  for  "  the 
poor  and  pilg-rims,"  and  the  third  for  themselves. 
The  delio'ht  of  their  old  a^e  was  their  onlv  child 
Mary,  who  afterwards  became  the  mother  of  Jesus. 
She  had  been  born,  as  they  believed,  in  answer  to 
their  prayers,  and  they  cherished  her  with  peculiar 
devotion. 

That  Mary  was  a  good  and  lovable  child  beyond 
common  measure  we  can  have  no  doubt  :  she  was 
set  apart  for  a  strange  and  holy  service.  The  beau- 
tiful story  of  her  early  life  is  told  in  an  old  Latin 
book  called  the  "  Legenda  Aurea,"  or  the  "  Golden 
Lesrend."  This  was  a  collection  of  old  leo-ends  writ- 
ten  out  for  the  first  time  by  Jacopo  de  Voragine,  an 
Italian  archbishop  of  the  thirteenth  century.  The 
early  English  translation  by  Caxton,  in  which  we  still 
read  the  book,  preserves  the  (piaint  flavor  of  the 
original.  There  is  one  portion  of  it  describing 
the  dedication^  or  presentation,  of  the  Virgin  in  the 


8  TITIAN 

temple.  Before  Mary  was  born,  the  mother,  Anna,  had 
promised  the  angel  of  the  Lord  that  she  would  pre- 
sent the  comin<r  child  as  an  offerino:  to  the  Lord. 
Long  before  her  day,  a  certain  Hannah  had  made  a 
like  vow  under  similar  circumstances.  Her  son  Sam- 
uel, a  "  child  obtained  by  petition,"  was  "  returned," 
or  "  lent,"  to  the  Lord  as  long  as  he  lived. ^  A  child 
thus  dedicated  was  early  carried  to  the  temple  to  be 
educated  within  its  precincts  for  special  service  to 
God. 

The  presentation  of  Mary  was  on  this  wise : 
"  And  then  when  she  had  accomplished  the  time  of 
three  years  .  .  .  they  brought  her  to  the  temple  with 
offerings.  And  there  was  about  the  temple,  after 
the  fifteen  psalms  of  degrees,  fifteen  steps  or  grees 
to  ascend  up  to  the  temple,  because  the  temple  was 
hicrh  set.  And  nobodv  mio-ht  2:0  to  the  altar  of 
sacrifices  that  was  without,  but  by  the  degrees.  And 
then  our  Lady  was  set  on  the  lowest  step ;  and 
mounted  up  without  any  help  as  she  had  been  of 
perfect  age,  and  when  they  had  performed  their 
offering,  they  left  their  daughter  in  the  temple  with 
the  other  virgins,  and  they  returned  into  their  place. 
And  the  Virgin  Mary  profited  every  day  in  all  holi- 
ness, and  was  visited  daily  by  angels,  and  had  every 
day  divine  visions."  ^  We  see  at  once  the  picture 
there  is  in  the  story,  the  little  girl  ascending  alone 

^  1  Samuel,  chapter  i.,  verses  11,  24-28. 

-  The  Golden  Legend,  in  Caxton's  translation,  edited  by  F.  S.  Ellis 
(Temple  Classics,  vol.  v.,  pp.  101,  102).  The  story  is  retold  in  Mrs, 
Jameson's  Legends  of  ike  Madonna,  p.  197. 


'.T-n'.v*  tr^-\n^ 


J..VAJ.A..l'1  l*-"".* 


■■^s"  -t- ■ '  ' — 'f ■-■■.', !'->ej«.Trwpi.g-^«i 


From  carLuii  jiriMi  l^y  [!>rit'in,  'JieiiH-iit  \  ','' 


J'-'liij  Ai.drew  i  Sua,  So. 


THE  PRESENTATION  OF  THE  VIRGIN  (DETAIL) 
Venice  Academy 


THE   PRESENTATION   OF   THE   VIRGIN  11 

the  long  flight  of  steps,  with  the  fond  parents  gaz- 
ing after  her  in  wonder.  Many  artists  have  pnt  the 
subject  on  canvas,  and  among  them  our  Venetian 
painter  Titian.  His  is  an  immense  picture,  from 
which  the  central  figure  only  is  reproduced  in  our 
illustration. 

We  must  imao'ine  ourselves  standinor-  with  a  o-reat 
throng  of  people  in  the  public  square  in  front  of  the 
temple.  Men,  women  and  children  jostle  one  an- 
other near  the  steps.  The  old  man  Joachim  and  his 
wife  Anna  are  easily  singled  out  among  the  number. 
The  windows  of  the  adjoining  palaces  are  full  of 
faces  looking  into  the  square.  A  group  of  senators 
stand  somewhat  apart,  looking  on.  An  old  peasant 
woman  with  a  basket  of  eggs  sits  in  the  shadow  of 
the  steps.  All  eyes  are  turned  towards  the  little 
child  who  is  walking  alone  up  the  great  stone  stair- 
case. On  the  topmost  stej)  the  high  priest  advances 
to  meet-  her,  resplendent  in  his  rich  priestly  gar- 
ments. 

The  figure  of  the  little  Virgin  is  very  cpiaint  in  a 
lono-  o^own  made  of  some  shimmerino-  blue  stuff. 
The  golden  hair  is  brushed  back  primly  and  woven 
into  a  heavy  braid,  whence  it  at  last  escapes  in 
beautiful  profusion.  It  would  be  hard  to  guess  the 
child's  age,  for  her  demeanor  is  that  of  a  little  wo- 
man as  she  gathers  her  long  skirt  daintily  in  her 
riofht  hand.  She  carries  herself  erect  in  the  new 
dignity  of  the  great  moment,  and  advances  with 
perfect  self-confidence.  The  face,  however,  is  (piite 
childlike  and  innocent,  and  is  lifted  to  the  priest's 


12  TITIAN 

with  a  happy  smile.  The  left  arm  is  raised  in  a  ges- 
ture of  wonder  and  delio-ht. 

The  whole  figure  is  surrounded  by  a  halo  of 
golden  light.  This  is  the  oval-shaped  glory  which 
the  Italians  call  the  mandorla,  from  the  word  mean- 
ing "almond."  It  is  of  course  the  symbol  of  the 
virgin's  peculiar  sanctity.  The  painter  has  not  tried 
to  make  the  little  girl  particularly  pretty,  but  he 
gives  her  the  indescribable  charm  which  we  call  win- 
someness.  She  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  lovable 
children  art  has  ever  produced. 

As  we  study  the  artist's  method  of  work  in  the 
picture  we  see  how  very  simply  the  figure  is  drawn. 
Titian  was  fond  of  rich  and  voluminous  draperies, 
as  we  shall  learn  from  several  examples  which  are  to 
follow.  Here,  however,  he  draws  a  dress  with  tight 
sleeves  and  scanty  skirt  absolutely  without  decora- 
tion of  any  sort.  It  is  this  simplicity  which  gives 
the  childlike  appearance  to  the  figure. 

There  is  a  pathos  in  the  little  figure  which  we  can- 
not altogether  appreciate  in  our  illustration.  We 
have  to  remember  that  the  whole  picture  measures 
twenty-five  feet  in  width  by  eleven  in  height,  and 
then  imagine  how  tiny  the  child  looks  ascending 
alone  the  ffreat  staircase  in  the  centre  of  this  vast 
panorama.  The  isolation  of  the  figure  suggests  the 
singular  destiny  of  Mary,  set  apart  from  others  in 
the  loneliness  of  a  unique  service. 


Ill 

THE  EMPRESS  ISABELLA 

The  most  illustrious  of  Titian's  many  patrons  was 
the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  whose  wife  was  the  Empress 
Isabella  of  our  portrait.  This  powerful  nujnarch  had 
inherited  from  one  grandfather,  Ferdinand,  the 
kingdom  of  Spain,  and  from  another,  Maximilian, 
the  empire  of  Germany.  His  marriage  was  arranged 
chiefly  for  political  reasons,  hut  proved  to  be  a  happy 
one. 

Isabella  was  the  dauo-hter  of  Emmanuel  the  Great, 
late  King  of  Portngal,  and  the  sister  of  John  III., 
the  reigning  king.  She  was  a  princess  of  uncommon 
beauty  and  accomplishments.  The  Portuguese  gov- 
ernment bestowed  a  superb  dowTy  of  nine  hundred 
thousand  crowns  upon  her,  and  the  marriage  was 
celebrated  in  Seville  in  152G.  The  ceremony  was 
splendid,  and  there  were  great  festivities  following. 

Soon  after,  the  em})eror  travelled  with  his  bride 
through  Andalusia  and  Granada  that  he  might  see 
his  new  kingdom.  Called  at  last  to  other  parts  of 
his  dominion,  he  left  Isabella  as  regent  in  Spain,  and 
went  to  Italy,  where  in  1532  he  first  called  Titian 
into  service  to  paint  his  portrait.  In  the  years  that 
followed  the  painter  found  the  emperor  a  constant 
and  generous  patron,  and  was  frequently  sunnnoned 


14  TITIAN 

to  meet  the  court  at  various  places.  In  the  mean- 
time, however,  the  lovely  empress  never  had  had  a 
sitting-  to  the  first  painter  of  the  day.  She  stayed 
quietly  at  home  and  had  her  portrait  painted  by 
such  inferior  artists  as  were  at  hand. 

When  she  died  in  1539  Charles  was  left  disconso- 
late, mthout  any  satisfactory  portrait  of  her  beloved 
face.  He  accordingly  sent  to  Titian  a  portrait  of 
her  painted  at  the  age  of  twenty-four,  and  required 
him  to  use  it  as  the  basis  of  a  picture.  The  painter 
obeyed,  and  soon  sent  his  royal  patron  two  can- 
vases, besfjiinof  him  to  return  them  with  criticisms  if 
he  wished  any  changes  made.  As  they  were  never 
sent  back  we  infer  that  Charles  found  them  as  much 
like  the  original  as  could  have  been  expected.  The 
fame  of  Isabella's  beauty  and  goodness  had  of  course 
come  to  the  painter's  knowledge,  and  this  was  per- 
haps a  better  inspiration  than  the  old  portrait  which 
was  his  guide.  Certainly  the  picture  he  produced 
shows  a  winning  personality. 

The  empress  is  seated  near  a  window,  holding  a 
little  book  open  in  one  hand,  probably  a  prayer-book 
or  Book  of  Hours.  The  lady  is  not  reading,  but 
gazes  somewhat  pensively  before  her,  as  if  thinking 
over  the  familiar  words.  The  face  is  gentle  and  re- 
fined, and  has  an  innocent  purity  of  expression  like 
that  of  a  child. 

The  features  are  small,  and  modelled  with  an  al- 
most doll-like  regularity.  Yet  the  mouth  is  set  firmly 
enouo;h  to  indicate  a  strono;  will  behind  it.  Isabella 
was  indeed  a  woman  of  remarkable  self-control.     A 


Fr«m  carbon  print  by  Braun.  Clement  i  Co. 


Jolin  Amlrew  \  Son.  So. 


THE  EMPRESS  ISABELLA 
Prado  Gallery,  Madrid 


THE  EMPRESS   ISABELLA  17 

story  is  told  that  once  when  ill  and  in  great  pain 
she  turned  her  face  in  the  shadow  that  none  might 
see  her  suffer,  and  uttered  no  sound  of  complaining. 
Her  nurses  remonstrated,  but  she  replied  firmly, 
"  Die  I  may,  but  wail  I  will  not." 

The  costume  of  a  Spanish  queen  of  the  sixteenth 
century  naturally  interests  us.  Apparently  Spanish 
Court  etiquette  of  the  period  dictated  a  dress  made 
with  hio-h  neck  and  lono-  sleeves.  The  bodice  is  of 
red  velvet,  the  loose  sleeves  lined  with  satin.  The 
under  bodice,  which  we  should  call  a  fjuhnpe,  is  of 
white  muslin  with  gold  fillets.  A  jewel  adorns  the 
red  hair,  and  a  long  necklace  of  pearls  is  caught  on 
the  bosom  with  a  pendant  of  rubies  and  emeralds. 
The  careful  dressing  of  the  hair,  the  strict  propriety 
of  the  gown,  and  the  attitude  of  the  queen  herself 
suggest  the  regard  of  conventionality  which  gov- 
erned the  great  lady. 

What  the  jjortrait  lacks  is  the  quality  of  lifelike- 
ness  which  makes  other  pictures  by  Titian  so  won- 
derful.^ Naturally  the  painter  could  not  so  easily 
impart  vitality  to  the  picture  when  not  working 
directly  from  the  living  model.  To  make  up,  as  it 
were,  for  this  defect,  he  painted  the  various  textures 
of  the  dress  w4th  marvellous  skill.  Satin,  velvet,  and 
muslin,  each  is  distinguished  by  its  own  peculiar 
lustre. 

The  bit  of  landscape  seen  through  the  window  is 
another  beautiful  part  of  the  picture.  The  distance 
gives    depth    to    the    composition    and    avoids    the 

1  For  instance,  Lavinia,  Flora,  and  the  Man  witli  tlie  Glove. 


18  TITIAN 

crowded  effect  it  mi<>:lit  otherwise  have.  We  shall 
see  a  similar  setting  again  in  the  portrait  of  La- 
vinia. 

The  Emperor  had  been  very  fond  of  his  wife,  and 
an  old  historian  says  that  "  he  treated  her  on  all 
occasions  Avith  much  distinction  and  regard."  If 
this  seems  nothing  surprising  to  note,  we  must 
remember  that  at  the  same  period  Henry  VIII.  of 
England  was  treating  his  queens  quite  differently. 

In  the  last  years  of  his  life  Charles  V.,  weary  of 
the  cares  of  government,  relinquished  his  kingdom 
to  his  son.  He  retired  to  the  convent  of  Yuste  to 
end  his  days,  taking  with  him  this  portrait  of  his 
wife.  When  he  lay  on  his  death-bed  he  asked  to 
see  the  picture,  and  when  at  last  he  died  his  body 
was  laid  to  rest  beside  Isabella.  Their  son,  Philip  II., 
whose  portrait  we  are  presently  to  study,  succeeded 
to  a  portion  of  his  father's  dominion. 


IV 

MADONNA  AND  CHILD  WITH  SAINTS 

There  was  never  a  child  so  long-ed  for  as  the 
Child  Jesus,  and  none  whose  infancy  has  been  held 
in  such  loving  remembrance.  Centuries  before  his 
birth  the  prophets  of  Israel  preached  to  the  people 
of  his  coming-.  Year  after  year  men  waited  eagerly 
for  One  who  would  teach  them  the  way  of  righteous- 
ness. On  the  niolit  when  he  was  born  the  auirels 
of  heaven  appeared  in  the  sky  with  the  glad  tidings. 
His  birthday  ushered  in  a  new  era. 

We  all  know  the  story  of  his  infancy  in  the  Beth- 
lehem manger,  of  his  boyhood  in  the  little  town  of 
Nazareth,  of  the  years  of  his  ministry  throughout 
Judea,  and  of  his  crucifixion  on  Calvary.  The 
narrative  of  his  life  was  written  by  the  four  evangel- 
ists, and  has  been  told  in  nearly  every  part  of  the 
world. 

Many  of  the  great  painters  have  drawn  the  sub- 
jects of  their  best  pictures  from  the  story  in  the 
Gospels.  A  favorite  subject  has  been  the  mother 
Mary  holding  the  Babe  in  her  arms,  as  in  our  illus- 
tration. To  understand  why  the  other  figures  are 
included  in  the  scene,  a  few  words  of  explanation 
are  necessary. 

In  the  early  days  of  Christianity  the  followers  of 


20  TITIAN 

the  new  faith  had  to  endure  great  persecutions,  and 
many  laid  down  their  Hves  for  their  Master.  The 
rehgious  Hberty  we  enjoy  to-day  is  due  to  the  cour- 
age and  loyalty  of  these  early  saints  and  martyrs. 
Much,  too,  is  due  to  the  work  of  those  teachers  who 
are  called  the  Fathers  of  the  church.  These  saints 
and  heroes  of  the  olden  time  have  been  honored  in 
art  and  song  and  story.  It  is  fitting  to  associate 
their  memory  with  that  of  him  to  whom  they  gave 
their  lives.  This  is  the  reason  why  in  pictures  of 
the  Mother  and  Child  Jesus  we  often  see  them 
standing  by. 

Such  pictures  do  not  represent  any  actual  histor- 
ical event.  The  various  persons  represented  may  not 
even  be  contemporaries.  It  is  in  a  devotional  and 
not  a  literal  sense  that  they  worship  the  Christ 
child  together. 

In  our  picture  the  Mother  tends  her  Babe  at  one 
side  while  three  saints  form  an  attendant  company. 
The  nearest  is  St.  Stephen,  the  young  man  "  full  of 
faith  and  power,"  who  did  "  great  wonders  and  mira- 
cles among  the  people  "  of  Jerusalem  in  the  apostolic 
days.  When  false  witnesses  accused  him  of  blas- 
phemy his  face  was  like  "  the  face  of  an  angel." 
Nevertheless,  when  his  accusers  heard  his  defence 
they  were  angry  at  his  frank  denunciations,  and 
casting  him  out  of  the  city,  stoned  him  to  death.^ 

The  old  man  standing  next  is  St.  Jerome,  one  of 
the  Latin  fathers  of  the  fourth  century.  He  was 
both  a  preacher  and  a  writer,  and  his  greatest  service 

^  See  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  chapters  vi.  and  vii. 


MADONNA   AND   CHILD    WITH   SAINTS  23 

to  the  world  was  his  translation  of  the  Bible  into 
Latin  (the  Vulgate).  This  is  the  book  from  which 
he  is  now  reading-,  and  St.  George  seems  to  look 
over  his  shoulder.  St.  George  is  the  hero  saint  who 
rescued  the  princess  Cleodolinda  from  the  dragon. 
He  suffered  many  tortures  at  the  orders  of  the  Em- 
peror Diocletian,  and  was  finally  beheaded  for  his 
faith.^ 

We  learn  to  identify  these  and  other  saints  in  the 
old  pictures  by  certain  features  which  the  masters 
long  ago  agreed  upon  as  appropriate  to  the  cliarac- 
ters.  St.  Stephen  we  recognize  here  because  he  is 
young,  and  carries  a  palm  as  the  symbol  of  his  mar- 
tyrdom. St.  Jerome  is  always  an  old  man  and  is 
known  here  by  his  book,  and  St.  George  is  distin- 
guished by  his  armor. 

The  three  make  an  interesting  group  as  they 
represent  three  ages  of  man,  —  youth,  maturity,  and 
old  ageu  They  stand,  too,  for  distinctly  different 
temperaments.  St.  Stephen  has  the  ardent  imagina- 
tive nature  of  a  dreamer,  St.  George  the  active  })ro- 
saic  temper  (jf  the  warrior,  and  St.  Jerome  the  grave 
contemplative  mind  of  the  scholar.  Each  serves 
the  Christ  with  his  own  o-jft. 

In  the  picture  the  three  seem  to  be  reading  to- 
gether some  passage  referring  to  the  birth  of  Christ, 

1  The  lives  of  St.  Jerome  and  St.  George  are  related  in  detail  in 
The  Golden  Legend.  See  Caxton's  translation  edited  by  F.  S.  Ellis 
(Temple  Cla.ssics),  vol.  v.,  pages  199-208,  for  St.  Jerome,  vol.  iii., 
pages  125-134,  for  St.  George.  Mrs.  Jameson's  Sacred  and  Legend- 
ary Art  contains  condensed  acconnts  of  the  same  two  saints.  See 
pag3  280  for  St.  Jerome  and  i)age  391  for  St.  George. 


24  TITIAN 

perhaps  that  glorious  verse  from  the  prophet  Isaiah. 
"  Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given." 
Coming  to  the  words  "  Wonderful,  Counsellor,"  St. 
Stephen  lifts  his  face  adoringly. 

The  Child  is  innocently  unconscious  of  his  grave 
guests.  He  lies  across  his  mother's  lap  kicking  his 
feet  gleefully  and  looking  up  to  her  with  a  playful, 
appealing  gesture.  She  bends  over  him  smiling,  and 
the  two  seem  to  talk  together  in  the  mystic  language 
of  babyhood.  The  artist,  we  see,  painted  the  mother 
as  beautiful  and  the  child  as  winsome  as  he  could 
^ye\\  imagine  them.  He  did  not  try  to  discover  how 
a  woman  of  Judea  was  likely  to  have  looked  centu- 
ries before.  He  preferred  to  think  of  Mary  as  one 
of  the  beautiful  Venetian  women  of  his  own  day. 
He  may  have  seen  some  real  mother  and  babe  who 
suggested  the  picture  to  him,  but  in  that  case  he 
painted  them  largely  according  to  his  own  fancy. 
The  Madonna's  dress  is  not  according  to  any  Vene- 
tian fashions,  but  in  the  simple  style  chosen  as  most 
appropriate  by  old  masters.  Red  and  blue  were  the 
colors  always  used  in  her  draperies,  and  it  was  also 
an  ancient  custom  to  represent  her  as  wearing  a  veil 
over  her  head  as  befitting  her  modesty. 

The  mother  has  the  fresh  comely  look  of  perfect 
health,  vet  with  much  delicacv  and  refinement  in 
her  o;entle  face.  Both  she  and  the  babe  seem  to 
rejoice  in  ijbounding  health  and  vitality.  The  pic- 
ture is  full  of  the  joy  of  life. 


V 


PHILIP    II 


Philip  II.  was  the  son  o£  the  Emperor  Charles  V. 
and  the  Empress  Isabelhi,  whose  portrait  we  have 
seen.  He  had  therefore,  Hke  most  princes,  a  union  of 
several  nationalities  in  his  lineage.  Upon  his  birth 
in  1527,  all  Spain  rejoiced  that  there  was  now  an  heir 
to  the  throne.  Charles  himself  counted  eagerly  upon 
the  help  his  son  would  give  him  in  the  administration 
of  his  vast  dominions. 

From  the  first  Philip  was  a  grave  and  thoughtful 
child,  pursuing  his  studies  first  with  his  mother  and 
then  with  a  tutor.  When  he  was  twelve  years  old 
his  mother  died ;  and  two  years  later  his  father,  who 
had  scarcely  seen  the  boy,  returned  to  Spain,  and 
devoted  himself  for  a  wliile  to  teaching  him  the 
principles  of  government.  Philip  was  an  apt  pu])il, 
and  showed  great  fondness  for  statesmanship. 

At  the  age  of  sixteen  a  great  responsibility  fell  upon 
the  young  prince.  Charles  was  called  to  Germany 
and  left  Philip  as  regent  of  Spain.  A  marriage  had 
already  been  arranged  between  the  youth  and  his 
cousin  Mary  of  Portugal,  and  this  took  place  soon 
after  the  Emperor's  departure.  Philip's  regency  was 
eminently  successful,  and  he  won  the  lasting  affection 
and  loyalty  of  the  Spanish  people. 


26  TITIAN 

The  Emperor  now  planned  that  the  prince  should 
make  a  journey  through  the  empire  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  his  future  subjects.  The  Spanish 
parted  with  him  reluctantly,  and  he  set  forth  ac- 
companied by  a  great  train  of  courtiers.  Six  months 
he  was  on  his  way,  everywhere  greeted  by  festivals, 
banquets  and  tourneys.  Philip,  being  of  a  reticent 
and  sombre  nature,  had  little  taste  for  these  festivi- 
ties, but  having  political  ambition,  submitted  as 
gracefully  as  possible.  At  length  he  made  a  state 
entry  into  Brussels.  This  was  in  1548 ;  and  in  the 
two  years  that  followed,  the  emperor  and  prince  were 
together,  planning  their  future  policy  of  govern- 
ment. The  lessons  which  Charles  most  deeply  im- 
pressed upon  Philip  were  those  of  self-repression, 
patience  and  distrust.  The  leading  element  in  his 
policy  was  to  be  absolute  ruler. 

It  was  at  the  close  of  these  two  years,  that  is,  in 
1550,  that  the  emperor,  attending  a  diet  in  Augs- 
burg, summoned  thither  Titian  to  paint  the  portrait 
o£  Philip.  The  prince  was  now  in  his  twenty-fourth 
year,  and  stood,  as  it  were,  on  the  threshold  of  his 
great  career.  There  could  scarcely  be  a  more  un- 
attractive subject  for  a  portrait.  Philip  had  a  poor 
figure,  with  narrow  chest  and  large  ungainly  feet, 
and  his  features  were  exceedingly  ill-formed.  His 
eyes  were  large  and  bulging,  he  had  a  projecting  jaw 
and  full  fleshy  lips  which  his  scanty  beard  could  not 
conceal.  Titian,  however,  had  the  great  artist's  irift 
of  making  the  most  of  a  subject.  We  forget  all 
Philip's  defects  when  we  look  at  this  magnificent 
portrait. 


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From  carbon  print  bj  Braun,  ClSment  k  Co. 


John  Amlrcw  .V  Sim,  So. 


PHILIP  II. 

Prado  Gallery,  Madrid 


PHILIP  II  29 

The  skill  with  which  the  splendid  costume  is 
painted  would  alone  make  the  picture  a  great  work 
of  art.  Philip  wears  a  breastplate  and  hip  pieces 
of  armor,  richly  inlaid  with  gold,  slashed  embroid- 
ered hose,  as  the  short  trousers  are  called,  white  silk 
tights  and  white  slippers.  The  collar  of  the  Golden 
Fleece  is  the  crowning  ornament. 

The  attitude  of  the  prince  is  full  of  dignity.  He 
stands  in  front  of  a  table  on  which  his  helmet  and 
gauntlets  are  laid.  The  right  hand  rests  on  the 
helmet,  and  the  left  holds  the  hilt  of  the  rapier 
which  hangs  at  his  side. 

The  most  remarkable  quality  in  the  portrait  is  the 
impression  of  royalty  it  conveys.  Though  Philip 
has  little  to  boast  of  in  good  looks,  he  has  inherited 
from  generations  of  royal  ancestors  that  indefinable 
air  of  distinction  which  belongs  to  his  station.  It 
is  this  which  the  painter  has  expressed  in  his  attitude 
and  bearing. 

Young  as  the  face  is,  with  little  of  life's  experience 
to  give  it  individuality,  the  painter  makes  it  a  rev^e- 
lation  of  the  leading  elements  in  Phihp's  character. 
The  seriousness  of  the  boy  has  developed  into  the 
habitual  gravity  of  the  man.  Already  we  see  how 
well  the  father's  lessons  have  been  learned,  how  self- 
contained  and  cautious  the  prince  has  become.  The 
affairs  of  state  seem  to  weigh  heavily  upon  him. 

The  proportions  of  the  figure  to  the  size  and 
shape  of  the  canvas  add  something  to  the  apparent 
height  of  Philip.  Titian  has  done  everything  a 
painter  could   do  to  give  an  ill-favored   prince  an 


30  TITIAN 

appearance  befitting  liis  royal  prestige  :  it  is  a  kingly 
portrait. 

Three  years  after  it  was  painted,  the  picture  was 
sent  to  England  to  be  showai  to  Queen  Mary.  Philip, 
now  a  widower,  had  become  a  suitor  of  the  English 
queen.  The  report  came  that  Mary  was  "greatly 
enamoured"  of  the  portrait,  and  the  marriage  w^as 
soon  after  effected.  Philip,  however,  did  not  win 
great  favor  with  the  English,  and  after  Mary's  death 
he  chose  a  French  princess  for  his  next  wife,  and 
spent  his  life  in  Spain. 

Upon  the  abdication  of  his  father,  he  became  the 
most  powerful  monarch  in  Europe,  and  had  the  best 
armies  of  his  time.  He  was  constantly  at  war  with 
other  nations,  usually  two  or  more  at  a  time,  and  by 
undertaking  too  many  schemes  often  failed.  It  was 
durino-  his  reisfu  that  the  Netherlands  were  lost  to 
Spain,  and  the  famous  Spanish  Armada  was  destroyed 
by  the  English. 


VI 

SAINT    CHRISTOPHER 

There  was  once  in  the  land  of  Canaan  a  giant 
named  Offero,  which  means  "  the  hearer."  His 
colossal  size  and  tremendons  strength  made  him  an 
ohject  of  terror  to  all  heholders,  and  he  determined 
to  serve  none  but  the  most  powerful  being  in  the 
world. 

He  accordingly  joined  the  retinue  of  a  great  king, 
and  for  a  while  all  went  well.  One  day  while  listen- 
inof  to  a  minstrel's  sono-  the  kino-  treml)led  and 
crossed  himself  every  time  the  sinsrer  mentioned  the 
Devil.  "  Then,"  thought  Offero,  "  there  is  one  more 
powerful-than  the  King  ;  and  he  it  is  whom  I  should 
serve."  So  he  went  in  search  of  the  Devil,  and  soon 
entered  the  ranks  of  his  army. 

One  day  as  they  came  to  a  wayside  cross  he  noticed 
his  master  tremble  and  turn  aside.  ''  Then,"  thought 
Offero,  "  there  is  one  more  powerful  than  the  Devil, 
and  he  it  is  whom  I  should  serve."  He  now  learned 
that  this  o'reater  beinof  whom  the  Devil  feared  was 
Jesus,  who  died  on  the  cross,  and  he  earnestly  sought 
to  know  the  new  Master. 

An  old  hermit  undertook  to  instruct  him  in  the 
faith.  "  You  must  fast,"  said  he.  "  That  I  will 
not,"  said  Offero,  "  lest  I  lose  my  strength."    "  You 


32  TITIAN 

must  pray,"  said  the  hermit.  "  That  I  cannot,"  said 
Offero.  "  Then,"  said  the  hermit,  "  go  to  the  river 
side  and  save  those  who  perish  in  the  stream." 
"  That  I  will,"  said  OfPero  joyfully. 

The  giant  built  hitn  a  hut  on  the  bank  and  rooted 
up  a  palm  tree  from  the  forest  to  use  as  a  staff.  Day 
and  night  he  guided  strangers  across  the  ford  and 
carried  the  weak  on  his  shoulders.  He  never  wea- 
ried of  his  labor. 

One  night  as  he  rested  in  his  hut  he  heard  a 
child's  voice  calling  to  him  from  the  shore,  "  Oft'ero, 
come  forth,  and  carry  me  over."  He  arose  and  went 
out,  but  seeing  nothing  returned  and  lay  down. 
Again  the  voice  called,  "  Offero,  come  forth  and  carry 
me  over."  Aoain  he  went  out  and  saw  no  one.  A 
third  time  the  voice  came,  "  Offero,  come  forth,  and 
carry  me  over." 

The  giant  now  took  a  lantern,  and  by  its  light 
found  a  little  child  sitting  on  the  bank,  repeating  the 
cry,  "  Offero,  carry  me  over."  Offero  lifted  the  child 
to  his  sfreat  shoulders,  and  takin"'  his  staff  strode 
into  the  river.  Thg  wind  blew,  the  waves  roared, 
and  the  water  rose  higher  and  higher,  yet  the  giant 
pushed  bravely  on.  The  burden  which  had  at  first 
seemed  so  lioht  orew  heavier  and  heavier.  Offero's 
strong  knees  bent  under  him,  and  it  seemed  as  if  he 
would  sink  beneath  the  load.  Yet  on  he  pressed 
with  tottering  steps,  never  complaining,  until  at  last 
the  farther  bank  was  reached.  Here  he  set  his  pre- 
cious burden  gently  down,  and  looking  with  wonder 
at  the  child,  asked,  "  Who  art  thou,  child  ?     The 


Illiun 


Doge's  Palu^c,  lenur 


SAINT  CHRISTOPHER 


SAINT  CHRISTOPHER  35 

burden  of  the  world  had  not  been  heavier."  "  Won- 
der not,"  said  tlie  Chikl,  "  for  thou  hast  borne  on 
thy  shoulders  him  who  made  the  world."  Then  a 
brio'ht  lio'lit  shone  about  the  little  face,  and  in  an- 
other  moment  the  mysterious  stranoer  had  vanished. 
Thus  was  it  made  known  to  Ott'ero  that  he  had  been 
taken  into  the  service  of  the  most  powerful  being-  in 
the  world.  From  this  time  forth  he  was  known  as 
Christ-ott'ero,  or  Christopher,  the  Christ-bearer.^ 

With  this  story  in  mind  we  readily  see  the  mean- 
ing of  our  picture.  The  giant  has  reached  mid- 
stream, with  his  tiny  passenger  perched  astride  his 
shoulders.  Already  the  burden  has  become  myste- 
riously heavy,  and  Oitero  bends  forward  to  support 
the  strain,  staying  himself  with  his  great  staff.  He 
lifts  his  face  to  the  child's  with  an  expression  of 
minoled  anouish  and  wonder. 

The  situation  is  full  of  strange  pathos.  The  babe 
seems  ^o  small  and  helpless  beside  the  splendid 
muscular  strength  of  the  brawny  giant.  Yet  he  is 
here  the  leader.  With  uplifted  hand  he  seems  to 
be  cheering  his  bearer  on  the  toilsome  way. 

The  figures  in  the  picture  seem  to  be  taken  from 
common  every-day  life.  Some  Venetian  boatman 
may  have  been  the  painter's  model  for  St.  Christo- 
pher, whose  attitude  is  similar  to  that  of  a  gondolier 
plying  his  oar.  The  child,  too,  is  a  child  of  the  peo- 
ple, a  sturdy  little  fellow,  quite  at  ease  in  his  peril- 
ous position.      We  shall  understand  better  the  range 

^  See  the  story  as  related  in  Mrs.  ^•.xma^oxx  •&  Sacred  nud  Legendanj 
Art,  page  433,  and  in   II.   E.  Scndder's  Book  of  Legends. 


3G  TITIAN 

of  Titian's  art  by  contrasting  these  more  common- 
place figures  witli  the  refined  and  elegant  types  we 
see  in  some  of  our  other  illustrations. 

The  picture  of  St.  Christopher  is  a  fresco  paint- 
ing on  the  walls  of  the  palace  of  the  doges  or  dukes 
in  Venice.  It  was  originally  designed  to  celebrate 
the  arrival  of  the  French  army  in  1523,  at  an  Ital- 
ian town  called  San  Cristoforo.  It  is  so  placed  that 
it  might  be  the  first  object  seen  every  morning  when 
the  doo-e  left  his  bed-chamber.  This  was  on  account 
of  an  old  tradition  that  the  sight  of  St.  Christopher 
always  gives  courage  to  the  beholder.  "  Whoever 
shall  behold  the  image  of  St.  Christopher,  on  that 
day  shall  not  faint  or  fail,"  runs  an  old  Latin 
inscription. 

As  fresco  painting  was  a  method  of  art  compara- 
tively unfamiliar  to  Titian,  it  is  interesting  to  know 
than  an  eminent  critic  pronounces  our  picture 
^'  broad  and  solid  in  execution,  rich  and  brilliant  in 
color."  ^  We  see  from  our  reproduction  that  the 
paint  has  flaked  from  the  wall  in  a  few  places. 

'  Claude  Phillips. 


VII 

LAVINIA 

Something  of  the  home  life  of  Titian  must  be 
known  in  order  to  understand  the  loving-  care  which 
he  bestowed  upon  this  portrait  of  his  daughter  Lavinia. 
The  painter's  works  were  in  such  demand  that  he 
could  afford  to  live  in  a  costly  manner.  He  had  a 
true  Venetian's  love  of  luxurv,  and  liked  to  surround 
himself  with  elegant  things.  His  society  was  sought 
by  rich  noblemen,  and  he  himself  lived  like  a  prince. 

When  somewhat  over  fifty  years  of  age  Titian 
removed  to  a  spot  just  outside  Venice  in  the  district 
of  Biri,  where  he  laid  out  a  beautiful  garden.  The 
view  ffom  Casa  Grande,  as  the  house  was  called, 
was  very  extensive,  looking  across  the  lagoon  to 
the  island  of  Murano  and  the  hills  of  Ceneda.  Here 
Titian  entertained  his  guests  with  lavish  hospitality. 
A  distinguished  scholar  of  that  time,  one  Priscia- 
nese,  who  had  come  to  Venice  in  1540  to  publish  a 
grammar,  describes  how  he  was  entertained  there  : 
"Before  the  tables  were  set  out,"  he  writes,  .  .  . 
"  we  spent  the  time  in  looking  at  the  lively  figures 
in  the  excellent  pictures,  of  which  the  house  was 
full,  and  in  discussing  the  real  beauty  and  charm  of 
the  garden.  ...  In  the  meanwhile  came  the  hour 
for  supper,   which   was  no  less  beautiful   and   well 


38  TITIAN 

aiTanged  than  copious  and  well  provided.  Besides 
the  most  delicate  viands  and  precious  wines,  there 
were  all  those  pleasures  and  amusements  that  are 
suited  to  the  season,  the  guests  and  the  least.  .  .  . 
The  sea,  as  soon  as  the  sun  went  down,  swarmed 
with  gondolas,  adorned  with  beautiful  women,  and 
resounded  with  the  varied  harmony  of  music  of 
voices  and  instruments,  which  till  midnight  accom- 
panied our  delightful  supper." 

The  darling  of  this  beautiful  home  at  Casa 
Grande  was  the  painter's  daughter  Lavinia,  and  the 
portrait  shows  how  she  looked  in  1549.  Her  mo- 
ther had  died  before  the  removal  of  the  family  to 
Biri,  and  the  aunt,  who  had  since  tried  to  fill  the 
vacant  place,  died  about  the  time  this  portrait  was 
painted.  A  new  responsibility  had  therefore  fallen 
upon  the  young  girl,  and  she  was  now  her  father's 
chief  consolation.  It  is  thought  that  the  picture 
was  painted  for  Titian's  friend  Argentina  Pallavicino 
of  Reo'o^io.  As  a  g-uest  at  her  father's  house  this 
gentleman  must  often  have  seen  and  admired  the 
charming  girl,  and  the  portrait  was  a  pleasant  sou- 
venir of  his  visits. 

Lavinia  is  seen  carrying  a  silver  salver  of  fruit, 
turning,  as  she  goes,  to  look  over  her  shoulder.  The 
open  country  stretches  before  her,  and  it  is  as  if  she 
were  stepping  from  a  portico  of  the  honse  to  the  gar- 
den terrace  to  brin"f  the  fruit  to  some  "uest.  She  is 
handsomely  dressed,  as  her  father  would  like  to  see 
his  daughter.  The  gown  is  of  yellow  flowered  bro- 
cade, the  bodice  edged  with  jewelled  cording.    Over 


Fr.  Hanfataeng],  photo. 


John  An'lrew  k  Son.  Sc. 


LAVINIA 
Bc'r/i/i  Galloy 


LAVINIA  41 

the  neck  is  thrown  a  delicate  scarf  of  some  gauzy 
stuff,  the  ends  floating'  down  in  front.  An  orna- 
mental gold  tiara  is  set  on  the  wavy  auburn  hair,  an 
ear-ring  hangs  from  the  pretty  ear,  and  a  string  of 
pearls  encircles  the  neck.  Imagine  the  figure  against 
a  deep  red  curtain,  and  you  have  in  mind  the  wdiole 
color  scheme  of  this  richly  decorative  picture. 

Lavinia,  however,  would  be  attractive  in  any  dress, 
with  her  fresh  young  beauty  and  simple  unconscious 
ofrace.  Her  features  are  not  modelled  in  classic  lines  : 
the  charm  of  the  face  is  its  fresh  color,  dm  pretty 
curves  of  the  plump  cheek,  and,  above  all,  the  sweet 
open  expression.  The  hands  are  delicate  and  shapely, 
as  of  one  well  born  and  sfently  reared.  Lavinia  is 
perhaps  not  a  very  intellectual  person,  but  she  has 
a  sweet  sunny  nature  and  is  full  of  life  and  spirits. 
It  would  seem  impossible  to  be  sad  or  lonely  in  her 
cheery  company.  She  holds  lier  precious  burden 
high,  with  an  air  of  triumph,  and  turns  with  a  smile 
to  see  it  duly  admired.  The  delicious  fruit  certainly 
makes  a  tempting  display.  The  girl's  innocent  round 
face  and  arch  pose  remind  one  of  a  playful  kitten. 

The  painter  has  chosen  a  graceful  and  unusual 
attitude.  The  curves  of  the  outstretched  arms  serve 
as  counterbalancing  lines  to  the  main  lines  of  the 
figure.  The  artist  himself  was  so  pleased  with  the 
pose  that  he  repeated  it  in  another  picture,  where 
Lavinia  assumes  the  gruesome  role  of  Salome,  and 
carries  in  her  salver,  in  place  of  the  fruit,  the  head 
of  St.  John  the  Baptist ! 

A  few  years  after  our  portrait  was  painte/;!,  Lavinia 


42  TITIAN 

was  betrothed  to  Cornelio  Saiciiielli,  of  Serravalle, 
and  a  new  portrait  was  painted  in  honor  of  the 
event.  Wlien  the  marriage  settlement  was  sig-ned 
Lavinia  brought  her  husband  a  dowry  of  fourteen 
hundred  ducats,  a  royal  sum  in  those  days.  The 
wedding  was  on  the  19th  of  June,  1555. 

Some  years  after  her  marriage  Lavinia  again  sat 
to  her  father  for  her  portrait.  Her  beauty,  as  we 
have  noted,  was  not  of  a  lasting  kind,  and  in  the 
passing  years  her  fresh  color  faded,  and  she  became 
far  too  stout  for  grace.  Yet  the  frank  nature  always 
made  her  attractive,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  see  in  the 
kindly  face  the  fulfilment  of  the  happy  promise  of 
her  girlhood. 


VIII 

CHRIST    OF    THE    TRIBUTE    MONEY 

During  the  three  years  of  Christ's  ministry,  his 
words  and  actions  were  closely  watched  by  his  ene- 
mies, who  ho})ed  to  find  some  fault  of  which  they 
could  accuse  him.  Not  a  flaw  could  be  seen  in  that 
blameless  life,  and  it  was  only  by  some  trick  that 
they  coidd  get  him  into  their  power. 

One  plan  that  they  devised  was  very  cunning. 
Palestine  was  at  that  time  a  province  of  the  Roman 
empire,  and  the  popular  party  among  the  Jews  chafed 
at  having  to  pay  tribute  to  the  emperor  Ctesar.  On 
the  oth©i-  hand  the  presence  of  the  Roman  governor 
in  Jerusalem  made  it  dangerous  to  express  any  open 
rebellion.  Jesus  was  the  friend  of  the  peo})le,  and 
many  of  his  followers  believed  that  he  would  even- 
tually lead  them  to  throw  off  the  Roman  yoke.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  however,  he  had  taken  no  })art  in 
political  discussions. 

His  enemies  now  determined  to  make  him  commit 
himself  to  one  party  or  the  other.  If  he  declared 
himself  for  Rome,  his  popularity  was  lost ;  if  against 
Rome  he  was  liable  to  arrest.  The  evangelists 
relate  how  shrewdly  their  question  was  framed  to 
force  a  compromising  reply,  and  how  completely  he 


44  TITIAN 

silenced  them  with  his  twofold  answer.     This  is  the 
story :  — 

"  Tlien  went  the  Pharisees,  and  took  counsel  how 
they  might  entangle  him  in  his  talk.  And  they 
sent  out  unto  him  their  disciples  with  the  Herodians, 
saying,  Master,  we  know  that  thou  art  true,  and 
teachest  the  way  of  God  in  truth,  neither  carest  thou 
for  any  man  :  for  thou  regard  est  not  the  person  of 
men.  Tell  us  therefore.  What  thinkest  thou?  Is 
it  lawful  to  give  tribute  unto  Caesar,  or  not? 

"  But  Jesus  perceived  their  wickedness,  and  said. 
Why  tempt  ye  me,  ye  hypocrites?  Shew  me  the 
tribute  money.  And  they  brought  unto  him  a 
penny.  And  he  saith  unto  them.  Whose  is  this 
image  and  superscription  ?  They  say  unto  him, 
Caesar's.  Then  saith  he  unto  them.  Render,  there- 
fore, unto  Caesar  the  things  which  are  Caesar's ;  and 
unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's.  When  they 
had  heard  these  words,  they  marvelled  and  left  him, 
and  went  their  way."  ^ 

That  was  indeed  a  wonderful  scene,  and  it  is 
made  quite  real  to  us  in  our  picture  :  Christ  and  the 
Pharisee  stand  face  to  face,  engaged  in  conversation. 
A  wily  old  fellow  has  been  chosen  spokesman  for 
his  party.  His  bronzed  skin  and  hairy  muscular 
arm  show  him  to  be  of  a  common  class  of  laborers. 
The  face  is  seamed  with  toil,  and  he  has  the  hooked, 
aquiline  nose  of  his  race.  As  he  peers  into  the  face 
of  his  supposed  dupe,  his  expression  is  full  of  low 
cunning  and  hypocrisy.     He  holds  between  thumb 

*  Matthew,  chapter  xxii.,  verses  34-40. 


From  oarboD  priat  bj  Brauu,  Clement  ti  Uu. 

CHRIST  OF  THE  TRIBUTE  MONEY 
Dresden  Gallery 


Julju  Audrcw  \  Suu,  be. 


CHRIST   OF  THE   TRIBUTE   MONEY  47 

and  forefinoer  the  Roman  coin  which  Christ  has 
called  for,  and  looks  up  as  if  wondering-  what  that 
has  to  do  with  the  question. 

Christ  turns  upon  him  a  searching  glance  which 
seems  to  read  his  motives  as  an  open  page.  There 
is  no  indignation  in  the  expression,  only  sorrowful 
rebuke.  His  answer  is  ready,  and  he  points  cpiietly 
to  the  coin  with  the  words  which  so  astonish  his 
listeners. 

The  character  of  Christ  is  so  many-sided  that  any 
painter  who  tries  to  represent  him  has  the  difficult 
task  of  uniting  in  a  single  face  all  noble  qualities  of 
manhood.  Let  us  notice  what  elements  of  character 
Titian  has  made  most  prominent,  and  we  shall  see 
how  much  more  nearly  he  satisfies  our  ideal  than 
other  painters. 

Refinement  and  intellectual  power  impress  us  first 
In  this  countenance  :  the  noble  forehead  is  that  of 
a  thinker.  The  eyes  show  penetration  and  insight: 
we  feel  how  impossible  it  would  be  to  deceive  this 
man.  It  is  a  gentle  face,  too,  but  without  weak- 
ness. Here  is  one  who  would  sympathize  with  the 
sorrowing  and  have  compassion  on  the  erring,  but 
who  would  not  forget  to  be  just.  Strength  of 
character  and  firmness  of  purpose  are  indicated  in 
his  expression.  The  highest  quality  in  the  face  is 
its  moral  earnestness.  Its  calm  purity  contrasts 
with  the  coarse,  evil  face  of  the  questioner  as  light 
shining  in  the  darkness.  There  is,  perhaps,  only 
one  other  head  of  Cluist  in  art  with  which  it  can 
properly  be  compared,  and  this  is  by  Leonardo  da 


48  TITIAN 

Vinci,  in  the  Last  Supper  at  Milan.  The  two 
painters  have  expressed,  as  no  others  have  been  able 
to,  a  spiritual  majesty  worthy  of  the  subject. 

The  early  painters  used  to  surround  the  head  of 
Christ  with  a  circle  of  gold,  which  was  called  a  nim- 
bus, a  halo,  or  a  glory.  The  custom  had  been  given 
up  by  Titian's  time,  but  we  see  in  our  picture  the 
remnant  of  the  old  symbol  in  the  three  tiny  points 
of  light  which  shine  over  the  top  and  sides  of  the 
Saviour's  hair.  They  are  a  mystic  emblem  of  the 
Trinity. 

The  artistic  qualities  of  the  picture  are  above 
praise.  There  are  few,  if  any,  of  Titian's  works 
executed  with  so  much  care  and  delicacy  of  finish, 
but  without  sacrificing  anything  in  the  breadth. 
We  recognize  the  painter's  characteristic  touch  in 
the  disposition  of  the  draperies,  in  the  delicacy  of 
the  hair,  the  modelling  of  the  hands,  and  the  pose 
of  Christ's  head.  The  figures  have  that  quality  of 
vitality  which  we  observe  in  Titian's  great  portraits. 
The  color  of  Christ's  robe  is  red,  and  his  mantle  a 
deep  blue. 


IX 

THE    BELLA 

Among  Titian's  wealthy  patrons  was  a  certain 
Duke  of  Urbino,  Francesco  Maria  della  Rovere,  who, 
as  the  o-eneral-in-chief  of  the  Venetian  forces,  came 
to  Venice  to  hve  when  our  artist  was  at  the  height 
of  his  fame.  From  this  time  till  the  Duke's  death 
the  painter  was  brought  into  relations  with  this  noble 
family.  This  was  the  period  when  the  Bella  was 
painted,  and  tlie  picture  has,  as  we  shall  see,  an  in- 
timate connection  with  these  patrons. 

The  Duke's  wife  was  Eleanora  Gonzaga,  sister  of 
the  Duk&  of  Mantua,  celebrated  for  her  beauty  and 
refinement.  A  contemporary  (Baldassare  Castiglione) 
writing  of  the  lady,  says  :  "  If  ever  there  were  united 
wisdom,  grace,  beauty,  genius,  courtesy,  gentleness, 
and  refined  manners,  it  was  in  her  person,  where 
these  combined  qualities  form  a  chain  adorning  her 
every  movement." 

The  Duke  himself  was  deeply  in  love  with  his  wife. 
A  week  after  his  marriage  he  wrote  that  "  he  had 
never  met  a  more  comely,  merry,  or  sweet  girl, 
who  to  a  most  amiable  disposition  added  a  surpris- 
ingly precocious  judgment,  which  gained  for  her 
general  admiration."     Eleanora,  on  her  part,  showed 


50  TITIAN 

an  undeviating  affection  for  her  husband,  and  they 
lived  together  happily. 

From  the  date  of  her  marriage,  we  can  reckon 
that  the  Duchess  must  have  been  well  into  her  thir- 
ties when  she  came  to  Venice  to  live.  From  a  por- 
trait Titian  painted  of  her,  when  she  was  about  forty, 
we  see  that  much  of  the  fresh  beauty  of  her  girlhood 
had  faded.  She  had,  however,  good  features,  with 
large,  fine  eyes  and  arching  brows.  Her  figure  was 
graceful  and  her  neck  beautiful :  the  head  was  par- 
ticularly well  set. 

All  these  qualities  kindled  the  artistic  imagination 
of  Titian.  In  the  matron  of  forty  his  inner  eye 
caught  a  vision  of  the  belle  of  twenty.  Thereupon, 
he  Avrought  an  artist's  miracle  :  he  painted  pictures 
of  Eleanora  as  she  had  looked  twenty  years  before. 
One  of  these,  and  perhaps  the  most  famous,  is  the 
Bella  of  our  illustration.^  The  identity  of  the  origi- 
nal is  hidden  under  this  simple  title,  which  is  an 
Italian  word,  meaning  the  Beauty.  An  ancient 
legend  tells  of  a  wonderful  fountain,  by  drinking  of 
which  a  man,  though  old,  might  renew  his  youth 
and  be,  like  the  gods,  immortal.  There  were  some 
who  went  in  quest  of  these  waters,  among  them,  as 
we  remember,  the  Spanish  knight,  Ponce  de  Leon, 
who,  thinking  to  find  them  north  of  Cuba,  discovered 
our  Florida.  The  Duchess  of  Urbino  found  such  a 
fountain  of  youth  in  the  art  of  Titian.  Comparing 
her  actual  portrait  with  the  Bella,  j)ainted  within  a 

^  Others  are  the  Venus  of  the  Uffizi  Gallery,  Florence,  and  the 
Girl  in  the  Fur  Cloak  in  the  Belvedere,  Vienna. 


From  carbon  print  bj  Braun,  Clement  A  Co. 


Jotm  Andrew  Sc  Son,  Ac 


THE  BELLA 
Pitti  Gallery,  Florence 


THE   BELLA  53 

few  years,  it  seems  as  if  the  lady  of  the  former  had 
quaffed  the  magic  draught  which  had  restored  her 
to  her  youthful  beauty. 

The  Bella  is  what  is  called  a  half  length  portrait, 
the  figure  standing,  tall,  slender,  and  perfectly  })ro- 
portioned.  The  lady  turns  her  face  to  meet  ours, 
and  whether  we  move  to  the  right  or  the  left,  the 
eyes  of  the  enchantress  seem  to  follow  us.  We  fall 
under  their  spell  at  the  first  glance  ;  there  is  a  de- 
lig-htful  witchery  about  them. 

The  small  head  is  exquisitely  modelled,  and  the 
hair  is  coiled  about  it  in  close  braids  to  preserve  the 
round  contours  corresponding  to  the  faultless  curves 
of  cheek  and  chin.  The  hair  is  of  golden  auburn, 
waving  prettily  about  the  face,  and  escaping  here 
and  there  in  little  tendrils.  Over  the  forehead  it 
forms  the  same  perfect  arch  which  is  repeated  in  the 
brows.  The  slender  throat  is  long  and  round,  like 
the  stalk  of  a  flower;  the  neck  and  shoulders  are 
white  and  firm,  and  shaped  in  beautiful  curves. 

The  rich  costume  interests  us  as  indicating  the 
fashions  in  the  best  Venetian  society  of  the  early 
16th  century.  Comparing-  it  with  that  of  the  Em- 
press Isabella  in  our  other  picture,^  we  notice  that  at 
the  same  period  the  Venetian  styles  differed  consid- 
erably from  the  Spanish,  to  the  advantage  of  the  for- 
mer. Instead  of  the  stiff  Spanish  corset  which  des- 
troyed the  natural  grace  of  the  figure,  the  Bella  wears 
a  comfortably  fitting  bodice,  from  which  the  skirt 
falls  in  full  straio^ht  folds.     The  dress  is  of  browaiisli 

^  See  patje  15. 


54  TITIAN 

purple  velvet,  combined  with  peacock  blue  brocade. 
The  sleeves  are  ornamented  with  small  knots  pulled 
throuofh  slashes.  A  longf  chain  falls  across  the 
neck,  and  jewelled  ear-rings  hang  in  the  ears.^ 

It  is  pleasant  to  analyze  the  details  of  the  figure 
and  costume,  but  after  all  the  charm  of  the  picture 
is  in  the  total  impression  it  conveys.  Applied  to  this 
lovely  vision  of  womanhood  the  words  of  Castiglione 
seem  no  flattery.  In  her  are  united  "  grace,  beauty, 
courtesy,  gentleness,  and  refined  manners."  The 
essence  of  aristocracy  is  expressed  in  her  bearing : 
the  pose  of  the  head  is  that  of  a  princess.  There 
is  no  trace  of  haughtiness  in  her  manner,  and  no 
approach  to  familiarity  :  she  has  the  perfect  equi- 
poise of  good  breeding. 

The  picture  gives  us  that  sense  of  a  real  presence 
which  it  was  the  crowning  glory  of  Titian's  art  to 
achieve.  The  canvas  is  much  injured,  but  the  Bella 
is  still  immortally  young  and  beautiful. 

1  III  tlie  later  Venetian  art,  as  in  the  pictures  by  Veronese,  we 
see  more  elaborate  costumes. 


X 

MEDEA    AND    VENUS 
{Formerlij  called  Sacred  and  Frufane  Love) 

A  CHARMING  story  is  told  in  Ovid's  "Metamor- 
phoses" of  Jason's  adventures  in  search  of  the  goklen 
fleece,  and  of  his  love  for  Medea.^  Jason  was  a 
Greek  prince,  young-,  handsome,  brave,  and  withal 
of  noble  heart.  He  had  journeyed  over  seas  in  his 
good  ship  Argo,  and  had  at  last  come  to  Colchis  to 
win  the  coveted  treasure. 

The  King  iEetes  had  no  mind  to  give  up  the 
fleece  without  a  struggle,  and  he  set  the  young  hero 
a  hard  task.  He  was  ordered  to  tame  two  bulls 
which  had  feet  of  brass  and  breath  of  flame.  When 
he  had  yoked  these,  he  was  to  plough  a  field  and 
sow  it  with  serpent's  teeth  which  would  yield  a  crop 
of  armed  men  to  attack  him.  While  Jason  turned 
over  in  his  mind  how  he  should  perform  these  feats, 
he  chanced  to  meet  the  kino-'s  beautiful  dauohter 
Medea.  At  once  the  two  fell  in  love  with  each  other, 
and  Jason's  fortunes  took  a  new  turn.  Medea  pos- 
sessed certain  secrets  of  enchantment  which  might 

^  See  Book  VII.  in  Henry  King's  translation,  from  which  the  quo- 
tations here  are  drawn.  Thn  same  story  is  deligiitfiilly  modernized 
in  Hawthorne's  Tanylewood  Tales  and  Kingsley's  Greek  Heroes. 


56  TITIAN 

be  of  practical  service  to  her  lover  in  his  adventure. 
She  had  a  magic  salve  which  protected  the  body 
from  fire  and  steel.  She  also  knew  the  charm  — 
and  it  was  merely  the  throwing  of  a  stone  —  which 
would  turn  the  "earth-born  crop  of  foes"  from  at- 
tacking an  enemy  to  attack  one  another.  Finally 
she  had  drugs  which  would  put  to  sleep  the  dragon 
guarding  the  fleece. 

To  impart  these  secrets  to  Jason  might  seem  an 
easy  matter,  but  Medea  did  not  find  it  so.  She  was 
a  loyal  daughter,  and  Jason  had  come  to  take  her 
father's  prized  possession.  She  would  be  a  traitor 
to  aid  a  stranger  against  her  own  people.  The  poet 
tells  how  in  her  trouble  the  princess  sought  a  quiet 
spot  where  she  might  take  counsel  with  herself. 

"  In  vain,"  she  cried, 
"  Medea  !  dost  thou  strive  !     Some  deity 
Resists  thee  !     Ah,  this  passion  sure,  or  one 
Resembling  tliis,  must  be  what  men  call  love  ! 
Why  should  my  sire's  conditions  seem  too  hard  ? 
And  yet  too  hard  they  are  !     Why  should  I  shake 
And  tremble  for  the  fate  of  one  whom  scarce 
These  eyes  have  looked  on  twice  ?     Whence  comes  this  fear 
I  cannot  quell  ?  Unhappy  !  from  thy  breast 
Dash  out  these  new-lit  fires  !  —  Ah  !  wiser  far 
If  so  I  could  !  —  But  some  new  power  constrains. 
And  reason  this  way  points,  and  that  way,  love." 

The  struggle  goes  on  for  some  time,  and  the  maid 
en's  heart  is  torn  with  conflicting  impulses.  Sum- 
moning up  "  all  images  of  right  and  faith  and  shame 
and  natural  duty,"  she  fancies  that  her  love  is  con- 
quered. A  moment  later  Jason  crosses  her  path  and 
the  day  is  lost.     Together  they  pledge  their  vows  at 


> 
Q 

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Q 

W 


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^ 

^ 


V 


MEDEA   AND  VENUS  59 

the  shrine  of  Hecate,  and  in  due  time  tliey  sail  away 
in  the  Argfo  with  the  or-olden  fleece. 

Our  picture  ilhistrates  the  scene  of  Medea's  temp- 
tation at  the  fountain.  The  tempter  is  love,  in  the 
form  of  Venus,  the  Greek  goddess  represented  in  the 
old  mythology  as  the  inspirer  of  the  tender  passion. 
She  is  accompanied  hy  the  little  love-g"od  Cupid,  the 
mischievous  fellow  whose  how  and  arrow  work  so 
much  havoc  in  human  hearts.  The  perplexed  prin- 
cess sits  beside  the  fountain,  holding  her  head  in  the 
attitude  of  one  listening.  Venus  leans  towards  her 
from  the  other  side  and  softly  pleads  the  lover's 
cause.  Cupid  paddles  in  the  water  as  if  (piite  un- 
concerned in  the  affair,  but  none  can  tell  what  mis- 
chief he  is  plotting. 

We  notice  a  distinct  resemblance  between  the  faces 
of  the  two  maitlens,  and  perhaps  this  is  the  painter's 
way  of  telling  us  that  Venus  is  only  Medea's  other 
self  :  the  voice  of  the  tempter  speaks  from  her  own 
heart.  ^_The  expression  is  quite  different  on  the  two 
faces,  tender  and  persuasive  in  Venus,  dreamy  and 
preoccupied  in  Medea.  If  we  turn  again  to  Ovid 
for  the  interpretation  of  the  picture,  we  may  fancy 
that  Venus  is  describing  the  proud  days  when,  as 
Jason's  bride,  Medea  would  journey  with  him  through 
the  cities  of  Greece.  "  My  head  will  touch  the  very 
stars  with  rapture,"  thought  the  princess. 

The  dress  of  Medea  is  rich  and  elegant,  but  quite 
simply  made  ;  the  heavy  folds  of  the  skirt  describe 
long,  beautiful  lines.  In  one  gloved  hand  she  holds 
a  bunch  of  herbs,  and  the  other  rests  upon  a  casket. 


60  TITIAN 

The  figure  of  Venus  is  conceived  according-  to  clas- 
sic tradition,  undraped,  as  the  goddess  emerged  from 
the  sea-foam  at  her  birth.  In  the  Greek  reho-ion 
the  human  body  Avas  honored  as  a  fit  incarnation 
for  the  deities.  Sculptors  delighted  in  the  long  flow- 
ing lines  and  beautiful  curves  which  could  be  devel- 
oped in  different  poses.  Titian's  picture  translates 
the  spirit  of  Greek  sculpture,  so  to  speak,  into  the 
art  of  painting.  The  figure  of  Venus  may  well  be 
compared  with  the  marble  Venus  of  Milo,  in  the 
pure  beauty  of  the  face,  the  exquisite  modelling  of 
the  figure,  and  the  sweeping  lines  of  grace  described 
in  the  attitude.^  The  painter  contrasts  the  delicate 
tint  of  the  flesh  with  the  rich  crimson  of  the  mantle 
Avhich  falls  from  the  shoulder. 

The  landscape  is  a  charming  part  of  the  picture, 
stretching  on  either  side  in  sunny  vistas,  pleasantly 
diversified  with  woods  and  waters,  hills  and  pasture 
lands,  church  and  castle."  Sunset  lights  the  sky, 
and  lends  its  color  to  the  s'lowino-  harmonies  of  the 
composition. 

^  See  the  volume  on  Greek  Sculpture  in  the  Riverside  Art  Series, 
chap.  xiii. 

2  In  our  reproduction  a  small  portion  of  the  landscape  is  cut  off  at 
each  end. 


XI 


THE    MAN    WITH    THE    GLOVE 

The  Man  with  the  Glove  is  so  called  for  lack  of 
a  more  definite  name.  Nothing  is  told  by  Titian's 
biographers  about  the  original  of  the  portrait,  and 
the  mystery  gives  a  certain  romantic  interest  to  the 
picture.  Not  being  limited  by  any  actual  facts  we 
can  invent  a  story  of  our  own  about  the  person,  or 
as  many  stories  as  we  like,  each  according  to  his 
fancy. 

The  sitter  certainly  makes  a  good  figure  for  the 
hero  of  a  romance.  He  is  youno-  and  handsome, 
well  dressed,  with  an  unmistakable  air  of  breeding, 
and  singularly  expressive  eyes.  Such  eyes  usually 
belong  k)  a  shy,  sensitive  nature,  and  have  a  haunt- 
ing quality  like  those  of  some  woodland  creature. 

The  title  of  The  Man  with  the  Glove  is  nppropriate 
in  emphasizing  an  important  feature  of  the  costume. 
In  the  days  of  this  portrait,  gloves  were  worn  only 
by  persons  of  wealth  and  distinction,  and  were  a 
distiuirnishino:  mark  of  elegance.  Tliough  somewhat 
clumsily  made,  according  to  our  modern  notions, 
they  were  large  enough  to  preserve  the  characteristic 
shape  of  the  hand,  and  give  easy  play  to  the  fingers. 
They  formed,  too,  a  poetic  element  in  the  social  life 
of  the  age  of  chivalry.     It  was  by  throwing  down 


62  TITIAN 

his  glove  (or  gauntlet)  that  one  knight  challenged 
another ;  while  a  glove  was  also  sometimes  a  love- 
token  between  a  knight  and  his  ladj. 

The  glove  has  its  artistic  purpose  in  the  picture, 
casting  the  left  hand  into  shadow,  to  contrast  with 
the  unjrloved  rioht  hand.  The  texture  of  the  leather 
is  skilfully  rendered,  and  harmonizes  pleasantly  with 
the  serious  color  scheme  of  the  composition. 

Besides  the  gloves,  the  daintily  ruffled  shirt,  the 
seal  ring,  and  the  long  neck  chain,  show  the  sitter 
to  be  a  young  man  of  fashion.  Not  that  he  is  in  the 
least  a  fop,  but  he  belongs  to  that  station  in  life 
where  fine  raiment  is  a  matter  of  course,  and  he 
wears  it  as  one  to  the  manner  born.  His  hands  are 
delicately  modelled,  but  they  are  not  the  plump  hands 
of  an  idler.  Thev  are  rather  flexible  and  sensitive, 
with  lono'  finor-ers  like  the  liands  of  an  artist. 

The  glossy  hair  falls  over  the  ears,  and  is  brushed 
forward  and  cut  in  a  straiglit  line  across  the  forehead. 
The  style  suits  well  the  open  frankness  of  the  coun- 
tenance. We  must  note  Titian's  rendering  of  both 
hair  and  hands  as  points  of  excellence  in  the  portrait. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  individuality  in  the  texture 
of  a  person's  hair  and  the  shape  of  his  hands,  but 
many  artists  have  apparently  overlooked  this  fact. 
Van  Dyck,  for  instance,  used  a  model  who  furnished 
the  hands  for  his  portraits,  irrespective  of  the  sitter. 
Titian,  in  his  best  work,  counted  nothing  too  trivial 
for  faithful  artistic  treatment. 

If  we  were  to  try  to  explain  why  The  Man  with 
the  Glove  is  a  great  work  of  art  we  should  find  the 


From  carbon  priot  b;  Braun,  CJement  &  Co 


John  Andrew  &  Son,  So* 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  GLOVE 
T/w  Louvre,  Pans 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  GLOVE         65 

first  reason,  perhaps,  in  the  fact  that  tlie  man  seems 
actually  alive.  The  portrait  has  what  the  critics  call 
vitality,  in  a  remarkable  degree.  Again,  the  painter 
has  revealed  in  the  face  the  inner  life  of  the  man 
himself ;  the  portrait  is  a  revelation  of  his  person- 
ality. 

It  has  been  said  that  every  man  wears  an  habitual 
mask  in  the  presence  of  his  fellows.  It  is  only  when 
he  is  taken  unaw^ire  that  the  mask  drops,  and  the 
man's  real  self  looks  out  of  his  face.  The  portrait 
painter's  art  must  catch  the  sitter's  expression  in 
such  a  moment  of  unconsciousness.  The  o-reat  artist 
must  be  a  seer  as  well  as  a  painter,  to  penetrate  tiie 
secrets  of  human  character. 

The  young  man  of  our  picture  is  one  of  those 
reticent  natures  capable  of  intense  feeling.  In  this 
moment  of  unconsciousness  his  very  soul  seems  to 
look  forth  from  his  eyes.  It  is  the  soul  of  a  poet, 
though  he  may  not  possess  the  gift  of  song.  He 
has  the-  poet's  imagination  as  a  dreamer  of  noble 
dreams. 

The  time  seems  to  have  come  wdien  he  is  just 
awakening  to  the  possibilities  of  life.  He  faces  the 
future  seriously,  but  with  no  shrinking.  One  recalls 
the  words  of  Gareth,  in  Tennyson's  Idyll: 

"Man  am  I  grown,  a  man's  work  must  I  do. 

Live  pure,  speak  true,  right  wrong,  follow  the  king  — 
Else  wherefore  born  ?  "  i 

The  lofty  ideals  of  the  knights  of  King  Arthur's 

^  From  Gareth  and  Lynette. 


66  TITIAN 

Round  Table  are  such  as  we  feel  sure  this  gentle  spuit 
would  make  his  own  :  — 

"  To  reverence  the  king  as  if  he  were 
Their  conscience,  and  their  conscience  as  their  king, 
To  break  the  heatlien  and  uphold  tlie  Christ, 
To  ride  abroad  redressing  human  wrongs, 
To  speak  no  slander,  no  nor  listen  to  it. 
To  lead  sweet  lives  in  purest  chastity. 
To  love  one  maiden  only,  cleave  to  her, 
And  worship  her  by  years  of  noble  deeds 
Until  they  won  her."  ^ 

It  may  be  of  these  "  noble  deeds "  of  chivalry 
that  our  young  man  is  dreaming-,  or  it  may  be  of 
that  "  one  maiden  "  for  w'hose  sake  tbey  are  to  be 
done.  Certainly  these  candid  eyes  see  visions  which 
we  should  be  glad  to  see,  and  show  us  the  depths  of 
a  knightly  soul. 

'  From  Gtiinevere. 


XII 

THE    ASSUMPTION    OF    THE    VIRGIN 

{Detail) 

The  Virgin  Mary,  mother  of  Jesus,  has  for  over 
nineteen  centuries  represented  to  Christendom  all 
the  ideal  qualities  of  womanhood.  In  her  character, 
as  revealed  in  St.  Luke's  gospel,  we  read  of  her 
noble,  trustful  humility  in  accepting  the  message  of 
the  Annunciation  ;  of  her  decision  and  prudence 
shown  in  lier  visit  to  Elizabeth  ;  of  her  intellectual 
power  as  manifested  in  the  song  of  the  Magnificat ; 
of  the  contemplative  nature  with  which  she  watched 
the  growth  of  Jesus  ;  of  her  maternal  devotion 
throuohout  her  son's  ministrv,  —  and  of  her  sublime 
fortitude  and  faith  at  his  crucifixion.^  Such  was  the 
woman  so  highly  favored  of  God,  she  whom  the 
anofel  called  "  blessed  amono-  women." 

Art  has  pictured  for  us  many  imaginary  scenes 
from  the  life  of  Mary.  The  most  familiar  and  best 
loved  subject  is  that  of  her  motherhood,  where  she 
is  seen  with  her  babe  in  her  arms.  There  are  other 
subjects,  less  common,  showing  her  as  a  glorified 
figure  in  mid-air  as  in  a  vision.      One  such  is  that 

^  This  analysis  of  Mary's  cliaractcr  is  suggested  in  tlie  Introduc- 
tion to  Mrs.  Jameson's  Legends  oj' the  Madonna,  \>.  -S. 


68  TITIAN 

called  the  Immaculate  Conception,  which  the  Span- 
ish painter  Murillo  so  frequently  repeated.^  An- 
other is  the  Assumption,  representing  her  at  her 
death  as  borne  by  angels  to  heaven. 

The  "  Golden  Leg-end  "  relates  how  "  the  rioht 
fair  among  the  daughters  of  Jerusalem  .  .  .  full  of 
charity  and  dilection"  was  "joyously  received"  into 
glory.  "  The  angels  were  glad,  the  archangels 
enjoyed,  the  thrones  sang,  the  dominations  made 
melody,  the  principalities  harmonized,  the  potestates 
harped,  cherubim  and  seraphim  sang  landings  and 
praisings."  Also,  "  the  angels  were  with  the  apostles 
singing,  and  replenished  all  the  land  with  marvelous 
sweetness."  ^ 

The  Assumption  of  the  Virgin  is  the  subject  of  a 
noble  painting  by  Titian,  one  of  the  most  celebrated 
pictures  in  the  world.  A  group  of  apostles  stand  on 
the  earth  gazing  after  the  receding  figure  of  the 
Virgin  as  she  soars  into  the  air  on  a  wreath  of  cloud- 
borne  angels.  From  the  upper  air  the  Heavenly 
Father  floats  downward  wath  his  angels  to  receive 
her.  As  the  canvas  is  very  large,  over  twenty-two 
feet  in  height,  a  small  reproduction  of  the  entire 
picture  is  unsatisfactory,  and  our  illustration  gives 
us  the  heart  of  the  composition  for  careful  study. 

The  Virgin  rises  buoyantly  through  the  air,  and 
the  figure  is  so  full  of  life  and  motion  that  it  seems 

1  See  the  volume  on  Murillo  in  the  Riverside  Art  Series,  Chap- 
ter I. 

^  See  The  Golden  Legend,  in  Caxton's  translation,  edited  by  F.  S 
Ellis  (Temple  Classics),  vol.  iv.,  pages  238,  239,  245. 


From  carbon  print  by  Braun.  clement  i  Co. 


John  Andrew  &  Son,  Sc. 


THE  ASSUMPTION  OF  THE  VIRGIN  (DETAIL) 
I 'en  ice  A  cad  cm  v 


THE   ASSUMPTION   OF   THE   VIRGIN  71 

as  if  it  would  presently  soar  beyond  our  sight.  The 
heavy  folds  of  the  skirt  swirl  about  the  body  in 
the  swiftness  of  the  ascent.  The  rushino-  air  fills 
the  mantle  like  the  sail  of  a  ship.  Yet  the  source  of 
motion  is  not  within  the  figure  itself,  for  w^e  see  the 
feet  resting  firmly  on  the  cloud.  It  is  as  if  she  were 
borne  aloft  in  a  celestial  chariot  composed  of  an 
angelic  host. 

The  face  is  lifted  with  a  look  of  rapture  ;  the 
arms  are  extended  in  a  gesture  of  exultation.  The 
pose  of  the  head  displays  the  beautiful  throat,  strong 
and  full  like  that  of  a  sino*er.  The  features  are  cast 
in  a  large,  majestic  mould.  The  hands,  turned  palm 
outward,  are  large  and  flexible,  but  with  deHcate, 
tapering  fingers. 

We  have  already  seen  in  other  pictures  what  was 
Titian's  conception  of  the  Virgin  in  her  girlhood 
and  motherhood.  We  find  little  of  the  ethereal  and 
spiritual  in  his  ideal,  and  nothing  that  would  in  any 
way  suggest  that  true  piety  is  morbid  or  sentimental. 
Other  painters  have  erred  in  this  direction,  but  not 
Titian.  To  him  the  Viro-in  was  no  anoel  iu  diso-uise, 
but  a  strong,  happy,  healthy  woman,  rejoicing  in 
life.  But  though  a  woman,  she  was  in  the  poet's 
phrase  "  a  woman  above  all  women  glorified."  She 
possessed  in  perfection  all  the  good  gifts  of  human 
nature.  Titian's  ideal  coincided  with  the  old  Greek 
formula,  "  A  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body."  The 
Virgin  of  the  Assumption  is  in  fact  not  unlike  a 
Greek  goddess  in  her  magnificently  developed  phy- 
sique and  glorious  beauty. 


72  TITIAN 

Our  illustration  includes  a  few  of  the  baby  angels 
from  the  wreath  supporting  the  Madonna.  They 
are  packed  so  closely  together  in  the  picture  that 
their  httle  limbs  interlace  like  interw^oven  stems  in  a 
garland  of  flowers.  Yet  the  figures  are  cunningly 
arranged  to  bring  into  prominence  a  series  of  radiat- 
ino-  lines  which  flow  towards  a  centre  in  the  Madon- 
na's  face.  We  see  in  the  corner  of  our  print  a  little 
arm  pointing  to  the  Virgin,  and  above  it  is  a  cherub's 
wing  drawn  in  the  same  obhque  line. 

Frolicsome  as  is  this  whole  company  of  angels, 
they  are  of  an  almost  unearthly  beauty.  A  poetic 
critic  has  told  of  standing  before  the  picture  contem- 
plating these  lovely  spirits  one  after  another,  until, 
as  she  expresses  it,  "  A  thrill  came  over  me  like  that 
which  I  felt  when  Mendelssohn  played  the  organ 
and  I  became  music  while  I  listened."  She  sums 
up  the  effect  of  the  picture  as  "  mind  and  music  and 
love,  kneaded,  as  it  were,  into  form  and  color."  ^ 

When  we  analyze  the  drawing  of  the  Madonna's 
figure  we  see  that  it  is  drawn  in  an  outline  of  long, 
beautiful  curves.  The  principle  of  repetition  is 
skilfully  worked  into  the  composition.  The  outer 
sleeve  falls  away  from  the  right  arm  in  an  oval 
which  exactly  duplicates  that  made  by  the  lower 
portion  of  the  mantle  sweeping  out  at  one  side.  By 
tracing  the  main  lines  of  the  drapery  one  will  find 
them  running  in  parallels. 

1  Mrs.  Jameson  in  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art,  page  74. 


XIII 

FLORA 

Besides  the  portraits  intended  as  actual  likenesses 
of  the  sitters,  Titian  was  fond  of  painting  what  may 
be  called  ideal  portraits,  or  fancy  pictures.  While 
real  persons  furnished  the  original  models  for  these, 
the  painter  let  his  imagination  have  free  play  in 
modifying  and  perfecting  form  and  feature.  We 
have  seen  an  illustration  of  this  process  in  the  picture 
called  the  Bella,  an  idealized  portrait  of  Eleanora 
Gonzaga.     The  Flora  is  another  example. 

We  do  not  know  the  name  of  the  orioinal,  but 
we  may  be  sure  that  it  represents  an  actual  person. 
There  is  a  tradition  that  she  was  the  dauo-hter  of 
one  of  Titian's  fellow-painters,  Palma,  with  wdiom 
he  was  in  love.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Palma  had  no 
daughter,  and  the  young  woman  was  doubtless  only 
a  favorite  Venetian  model  whom  both  painters  em- 
ployed. Apparently  it  was  she  who  posed  for  both 
figures  in  the  picture  of  Medea  and  Venus  which 
we  have  studied.^ 

Flora's  hair  is  of  that  auburn  tint  which  the  Vene- 
tians loved,  and  which,  it  is  believed,  was  artificially 
produced.  It  is  looped  into  soft,  waving  puffs  over 
the  ears,  and  gathered  back  by  a  silken  cord,  below 

^  See  page  57. 


74  TITIAN 

which  it  falls  like  a  delicate  veil  thinly  spread  over 
the  shoulders.  The  skin  is  exquisitely  white  and 
soft,  and  the  thin  garment  has  been  allowed  to  slip 
from  one  shoulder  so  that  we  may  see  the  full, 
beautiful  neck. 

We  notice  with  what  art  the  painter  has  arranged 
the  draperies.  From  the  right  shoulder  the  garment 
falls  in  delicate,  radiating  folds  across  the  figure. 
Over  the  garment  is  thrown  a  stiff,  rose-colored  bro- 
cade mantle,  contrasting  pleasantly  with  the  former 
both  in  color  and  texture.  A  glimpse  of  this  mantle 
is  seen  at  the  right  side  and  above  the  left  shoulder 
and  arm,  over  which  the  hand  gathers  it  up  to  pre- 
vent it  from  slipping.  This  action  of  the  left  hand 
introduces  a  new  set  of  lines  into  the  picture,  breaking 
the  folds  of  the  drapery  into  eddying  circles  which 
offset  the  more  sweeping  lines  of  the  composition.^ 

The  drawing  here  is  well  worth  studying,  and  we 
may  give  it  more  attention  since  we  must  lose  the 
lovely  color  of  the  painting  in  the  reproduction. 
The  main  lines  flow  in  diagonals  in  two  opposite 
directions.  There  is  the  long-  line  of  the  rig-ht  arm 
and  shoulder  drawn  in  a  fine,  strong  curve  across  the 
canvas.  Parallel  with  it  is  the  edge  of  the  brocade 
mantle  as  it  is  held  in  the  left  hand.  The  counter 
lines  are  the  curve  of  the  neck  and  left  shoulder, 
wuth  which  the  upper  edge  of  the  undergarment 
runs  parallel.  The  wide  spaces  between  these  en- 
closing lines  are  broken  by  sprays  of  radiating  lines, 

1  This  feature  of  the  picture  is  poiuted  out  by  John  Van  Dyke  in 
his  notes  on  Closson's  engraving  of  the  subject. 


From  carbon  print  by  Braun,  Clement  6i  Co. 


John  Andrew  i  Sun,  Sc. 


FLORA 
Uffizi  Gallery^  Florence 


FLORA  77 

one  formed  by  the  folds  of  the  undergarment,  and 
the  other  smaller  one  by  the  locks  of  hair  on  the 
left  shoulder. 

The  graceful  pose  of  the  head,  inclined  to  one 
side,  suggests  the  soft  languor  of  a  southern  temper- 
ament. It  was  often  adopted  by  Titian,  and  we  see 
another  instance  in  the  attitude  of  the  Venus.  We 
fancy  that  the  painters  liked  particularly  the  long 
curve  thus  obtained  alongf  the  neck  and  shoulder. 
The  ano-le  made  on  the  other  side  between  head  and 
shoulder  is  filled  in  with  the  falling  hair. 

The  title  of  Flora  is  given  to  the  picture  after  the 
fashion  of  Titian's  time  for  drawing  subjects  from 
mythology.  The  revival  of  classic  learning  had 
opened  to  Italian  art  a  delightful  new  held  of  illus- 
tration. We  see  how  Titian  took  advantage  of  it 
in  such  pictures  as  Medea  and  Venus.  In  England 
the  love  of  the  classics  was  seen  in  the  poetry  which 
took  much  the  same  place  there  that  painting  held 
in  Italy. ,.  Flora  was  the  ancient  goddess  of  flowers 
and  is  made  much  of  in  Elizabethan  verse. ^  Some 
pretty  lines  by  Richard  Carlton  describe 

"  When  Flora  fair  the  pleasant  tidings  bringeth 
Of  summer  sweet  with  herbs  and  flowers  adorned." 

In  our  picture  the  goddess  holds  a  handful  of 
flowers,  roses,  jessamine  and  vi(jlets,  as  a  sign  of  her 
identity.  We  confess  that  her  type  of  beauty  hardly 
corresponds  to  our  ideal  of  Flora.  She  is  a  gentle, 
amiable  creature,  but  not  ethereal  and  poetic  enough 

'   It  should   be   remembered   that  a   portion   of  Elizabeth's  reign 
(1538-1603)  fell  within  Titian's  lifetime. 


78  TITIAN 

for  the  goddess  of  flowers.  Were  we  to  choose  a 
character  for  her  from  mythology  it  would  be  Juno, 
the  matronly  "  ox-eyed  "  goddess,  who  presided  over 
marriage  and  whose  emblem  was  the  productive 
pomegranate. 

As  we  compare  Flora  with  the  other  fair  women  of 
our  collection,  we  see  that  her  beauty  is  of  a  less 
elegant  and  aristocratic  type  than  that  of  the  Bella, 
and  less  delicate  and  refined  than  that  of  the  Empress 
Isabella.  Her  face  is  perhaps  too  broad  to  satisfy  a 
connoisseur  of  beauty,  and  she  is  quite  plainly  of 
plebeian  caste.  Like  Lavinia  her  charm  is  in  the 
healthy  vitality  which  was  the  special  characteristic 
of  the  Venetian  beauties  of  the  time.  The  figure 
glows  with  warm  pulsing  life. 


XIV 

THE  PESARO  MADONNA 

High  on  a  great  marble  pedestal,  between  the 
stately  pillars  of  a  temple,  sits  the  mother  Mary 
with  her  child  Jesus,  receiving-  worshippers.  Beyond 
the  pillars  is  seen  the  blue  sky  veiled  with  fleecy 
clouds.  A  tiny  cloud  has  floated  within  the  enclo- 
sure, bearing  two  winged  cherubs,  who  hold  a  cross 
between  them,  hovering  over  the  group  below. 

The  company  of  worshippers  kneel  on  the  tessel- 
lated pavement :  we  see  from  their  dress  that  they 
are  wealthy  Venetians  of  the  sixteenth  century.  It 
is  the  family  group  of  a  certain  Jacopo  Pesaro,  who 
was  at  that  time  bishop  of  Paphos.  He  is  known 
by  the  fapiiliar  nickname  of  "  Baffo,"  and  played 
an  important  part  in  Venetian  history. 

When  the  Venetians  w^ent  forth  in  the  New  Cru- 
sade to  attack  the  Turks,  Pesaro  or  "  Baft'o  "  was 
the  commander  of  the  galleys  sent  by  tlie  Borgia 
pope  Alexander  VI.  The  expedition  being  suc- 
cessful, the  bishop  wished  to  show  his  gratitude  for 
the  divine  favor.  Accordingly,  in  the  course  of 
time,  he  ordered  this  picture  as  a  thank-offering 
commemorative  of  his  victory.  He  comes  with  his 
kinsman  Benedetto  and  other  members  of  his  family 
to  consecrate  the  standards  taken  from  the  enemy. 


80  TITIAN 

The  bishop  himself  has  the  most  prominent  place 
among  the  worshippers  at  the  foot  of  the  throne 
steps,  while  Benedetto,  with  a  group  behind  him, 
kneels  opposite.  The  victorious  commander  is  ac- 
companied by  St.  George,  who  carries  the  banner 
inscribed  with  the  papal  arms  and  the  Pesaro  es- 
cutcheon. He  leads  forward  two  Turkish  captives  to 
whom  he  turns  to  speak.  St.  George  was  a  warrior 
saint,  and  being  besides  the  patron  of  Venice  his 
appearance  in  this  capacity  is  very  appropriate  here. 

There  are  other  saints  to  lend  their  august  pre- 
sence to  the  ceremony.  As  the  picture  was  to  be 
given  to  a  church  dedicated  to  the  Franciscan  friars 
or  "  Frari,"  two  of  the  most  celebrated  members  of 
this  order  are  represented.  They  are  St.  Francis, 
the  founder,  and  St.  Anthony,  of  Padua,  the  great 
preacher,  and  they  stand  in  the  habits  of  their  order 
beside  the  throne.  Midway  on  the  steps  St.  Peter 
is  seated  readino;  a  book  from  which  he  turns  to  look 
down  upon  Jacopo.  The  key,  which  is  the  symbol 
of  his  authority  in  the  church,  stands  on  the  step 
below.  The  saints,  we  see,  form  a  connecting  link 
between  the  exalted  heisfht  of  the  Madonna  and 
Child  and  the  worshippers.  St.  Peter  introduces  the 
bishop,  and  St.  Francis  seems  to  ask  favor  for  the 
group  with  Benedetto. 

The  scene  is  full  of  pomp  and  grandeur.  The 
superb  architecture  of  the  temple,  the  rich  draperies 
of  the  sacred  group,  the  splendid  dresses  of  the 
worshippers,  the  red  and  gold  banner,  all  contribute 
to  the  impression  of  magnificence  which  the  picture 


D.  Anderson,  plioto. 


Joim  Andrew  A  Son,  Sc. 


THE  PESARO  MADONNA 
Churcli  of  the  Frari,  Venice 


THE   PESARO   MADONNA  83 

conveys.  The  colossal  scale  of  the  composition 
gives  us  an  exhilarating-  sense  of  spaciousness.  The 
color  harmony  is  described  as  glorious. 

Though  the  bishop  of  Paphos  conies  to  render 
thanks,  his  attitude  is  far  from  humble.  There  are 
no  bowed  heads  in  the  kneeling  company.  These 
proud  Pesari  all  hold  themselves  erect  in  conscious 
self-importance.  It  is  as  if  they  were  taking  part 
in  some  pageant.  Only  the  face  of  the  youth  in 
the  corner  relaxes  fr(nn  dignified  impassivity  and 
looks  wistfully  out  at  us. 

The  Madonna  leans  graciously  from  her  high 
throne  and  looks  into  the  face  of  the  bishop.  She, 
too,  has  the  proud  aspect  and  demeanor  which  these 
haughty  Venetians  would  demand  of  one  whom 
they  were  to  honor.  Her  splendid  vitality  is  what 
impresses  us  most  forcibly.  The  child  is  a  merry 
little  fellow  who  does  not  concern  himself  at  all 
with  the  ceremony.  He  has  caught  up  his  mother's 
veil  in  the  left  hand,  drawing  it  over  his  head  as  if 
in  a  o-ame  of  hide  and  seek  with  St.  Francis.  The 
little  foot  is  kicked  out  playfully  as  he  looks  down 
into  the  good  saint's  face. 

Let  us  consider  a  moment  the  skill  with  which 
Titian  has  united  the  various  parts  of  his  picture. 
The  canvas  was  of  an  awkward  shape,  being  of  so 
great  height.  To  fill  the  space  proportionately,  the 
Virgin's  throne  is  placed  at  a  height  which  divides 
the  picture.  The  little  cloud-borne  cherubs  break 
the  otherwise  undue  length  of  the  temple  pillars. 
The  composition  of  the  group  is  outlined  in  a  rather 


84  TITIAN 

odd-shaped  triangle.  All  its  main  lines  flow  diago- 
nally toward  a  focus  in  the  face  of  the  Virgin,  who 
is  of  course  the  dominant  figure  in  the  company. 

Notice  the  continuous  line  extending  from  the  top 
to  the  bottom  of  the  group.  The  folds  of  the  Ma- 
donna's drapery  are  ingeniously  carried  on  in  the 
rich  velvet  throne  hanging;  and  St.  Peter's  yellow 
mantle  falls  well  below,  where  the  bishop's  robe  takes 
up  the  lines  and  carries  them  to  the  pavement. 
There  is  a  veritable  cascade  of  draperies  flowing 
diagonally  through  the  centre  of  the  picture.  The 
staff  of  the  banner  describes  a  line  cutting  this  main 
diagonal  at  exactly  the  same  angle,  and  thus  avoid- 
ing any  one-sided  effect  in  the  picture.  In  the  right 
of  the  composition  the  outline  of  the  Christchild's 
figure,  the  arm  of  St.  Francis,  and  the  stiff  robe  of 
Benedetto  mahe  a  series  of  lines  which  enclose  the 
trianp'le  on  that  side. 

The  critic  Ruskin  has  enunciated  a  set  of  laws  of 
composition  nearly  all  of  which  find  illustration  in 
this  painting.^  Pi'mcvpality  is  well  exemplified  in 
the  prominence  of  the  Virgin's  position  and  the 
flow  of  the  lines  toward  her.  .Repetition,  Contrast, 
and  Continuitij,  are  seen  in  the  drawing  of  the  com- 
positional lines,  as  has  been  indicated.  Finally,  the 
picture  is  perfect  in  Unit//,  which  is  the  result  of 
masterly  composition,  its  many  diverse  parts  being 
bound  closely  together  to  form  a  harmonious  whole. 

^  See  Elements  of  Drawing,  Lecture  III. 


XV 

ST.    JOHN    THE    BAPTIST 

St.  John  the  Baptist  was  the  cousin  of  Jesus,  and 
was  the  elder  of  the  two  by  about  six  months.  Be- 
fore his  birth  tlie  angel  Gabriel  appeared  to  his 
father,  Zacharias,  and  predicted  for  the  coming* 
child  a  great  mission  as  a  prophet.  His  special  work 
was  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  advent  of  the  jMes- 
siah. 

Zacharias  was  a  priest  and  a  good  man,  and  both 
he  and  his  wife  Elizabeth  were  deeply  impressed  with 
the  angel's  message.  Not  long  after,  their  cousin 
Mary  came  from  Nazareth  to  bring  them  news  of 
the  wonderful  babe  Jesus  promised  her  by  the  same 
ang-el.  He  was  to  be  the  Messiah  whom  John  was 
to  proclaim.  The  two  women  talked  earnestly  to- 
gether of  the  future  of  their  children,  and  no  doubt 
planned  to  do  all  in  their  power  to  further  the 
angel's  prediction.  The  time  came  when  all  these 
strange  prophecies  were  fulfilled.  As  John  grew 
to  manhood  he  showed  himself  quite  different  from 
other  men.  He  took  up  his  abode  in  the  wilder- 
ness, where  he  lived  almost  as  a  hermit.  His  rai- 
ment was  of  camel's  hair  fastened  about  him  with 
a  leathern  girdle  ;  his  food  was  locusts  and  wild 
honey.     At  length  "  the  word  of  God  came  unto 


86  TITIAN 

him,"  ana  he  began  to  go  about  the  country  preach^ 
ing.  His  speech  was  as  simple  and  rugged  as  his 
manner  of  life.  He  boldly  denounced  the  Pharisees 
and  Sadducees  as  "  a  generation  of  vipers,"  and 
warned  sinners  "  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come." 
The  burden  of  all  his  sermons  was,  "  Repent,  for 
the  kinofdom'of  heaven  is  at  hand." 

The  fame  of  his  preaching  reached  Jerusalem,  and 
the  Jews  sent  priests  and  Levites  to  ask  him,  "  Who 
art  thou  ?  "  His  reply  was  in  the  mystic  language 
of  the  old  Hebrew  prophet  Isaiah,  "  I  am  the  Voice 
of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness,  Make  straight  the 
way  of  the  Lord." 

It  was  a  part  of  John's  work  to  baptize  his  converts 
in  the  river  Jordan.  He  explained,  however,  that 
this  baptism  by  water  was  only  a  symbol  of  the 
spiritual  baptism  which  they  were  to  receive  at  the 
hands  of  the  coming  Messiah.  "  One  miohtier  than 
I  Cometh,"  he  said,  "  the  latchet  of  whose  shoes  I 
am  not  worthy  to  unloose  :  he  shall  baptize  you 
with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire."  ^ 

At  last  Jesus  himself  sought  to  be  baptized  by 
John.  The  Baptist  protested  his  unworthiness,  but 
Jesus  insisted,  and  the  ceremony  was  performed. 
And  "  it  came  to  pass  that  .  .  .  the  heaven  was 
opened,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  descended  in  a  bodily 
shape  like  a  dove  upon  him,  and  a  voice  came  from 
heaven,  Avhich  said.  Thou  art  my  beloved  son  ;  in 
thee  I  am  well  pleased." '"     This  was  the  promised 

1  Luke,  chapter  iii.,  verse  6. 

2  Luke,  chapter  iii.,  verses  21,  22. 


D.  ADderaoD,  photo 


John  Andrew  i  Son, 


ST.  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST 
Venice  Academy 


ST.   JOHN   THE   BAPTIST  89 

sign  by  which  John  knew  Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  and 
he  straightway  proclaimed  him  to  his  disciples. 

His  life  work  w^as  now  consummated,  but  he  was 
not  permitted  to  see  the  fruits  of  his  labors.  For 
his  open  denunciation  of  King  Herod  he  was  cast 
into  prison,  and  was  soon  after  beheaded. 

In  our  picture  St.  John  stands  in  a  mountain  glen 
preaching.  As  his  glance  is  directed  out  of  the  pic- 
ture it  is  as  if  his  audience  were  in  front,  and  we 
among  their  number.  His  pointing  finger  seems  to 
single  out  some  one  to  whom  he  directs  attention, 
and  we  know  well  wdio  it  is.  This  must  be  that  day 
when  seeing  Jesus  approach  the  prophet  exclaimed, 
"  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God  wdiich  taketh  aw^ay 
the  sin  of  the  world.  This  is  he  of  whom  I  said, 
After  me  cometh  a  man  which  is  })referred  before 
me ;  for  he  was  before  me."  ^  The  lamb  which  lies 
on  the  ground  beside  him  is  the  outward  symbol  of 
his  words.  The  slender  reed  cross  he  carries  is  an 
emblem  ^f  his  mission  as  the  prophet  of  the  cruci- 
fied one. 

From  head  to  feet  the  Baptist  impresses  us  with 
his  muscular  power.  There  is  no  hint  of  fastings 
and  viofils  in  this  strono;  athletic  fi^'ure.  Here,  as 
elsewhere,  Titian  will  have  nothing  of  that  piety  which 
is  associated  with  a  delicate  and  puny  physique.  He 
is  the  art  a])ostle  of  that  "  muscular  Cliristianity  "  of 
which  Charles  Kingsley  used  to  preach.  The  Bap- 
tist's skin  is  bronzed  and  weather-beaten  from  his 
active  out-of-door  life.     Yet  the  face  shows  the  stern 

'  Joliii,  chapter  i.,  verses  29-30. 


90  TITIAN 

and  sombre  character  of  the  prophet.  There  are 
traces  of  suffering  in  the  expression,  as  of  one  who 
mourns  profoundly  the  evil  in  the  world.  Some- 
thing of  the  fanatic  gleams  in  the  eyes,  and  the 
effect  is  heightened  by  the  wild  masses  of  unkempt 
hair  which  frame  the  countenance. 

Nature  too  seems  to  be  in  a  somewhat  wild  and 
sombre  mood  in  this  spot.  A  dark  bank  rises  ab- 
ruptly at  the  side,  and  St.  John  stands  in  its  shadow^ 
just  under  a  tuft  of  coarse  grass  and  bushes  jutting 
from  its  upper  edge.  The  sky  is  overcast  with 
clouds.  A  narrow  stream  falls  over  a  rocky  bed, 
and  in  the  distance  slender  trees  lift  their  feathery 
branches  in  the  air.  In  Titian's  time  landscape 
painting  had  not  developed  into  an  independent  art, 
but  was  an  important  part  of  figure  compositions. 
Our  painter  always  took  great  pains  with  his  land- 
scapes, making  them  harmonize,  as  does  this,  with 
the  character  of  the  fioures. 

The  picture  reminds  us  of  the  St.  Christopher 
which  we  have  examined,  being,  like  it,  a  study  di- 
rect from  the  life  of  some  athletic  model.  Yet  here 
we  see  to  better  advantagfe  Titian's  work  in  model- 
ling"  the  nude  figfure.  We  can  understand  that  one 
reason  why  he  could  make  a  draped  figure  so  lifelike 
was  because  he  studied  the  anatomy  of  the  human 
body  in  undraped  models.  The  figure  here  stands 
out  almost  as  if  it  were  done  in  sculpture. 


XVI 


PORTRAIT    OF    TITIAN 


Probably  no  other  painter  in  the  world's  history 
was  ever  granted  so  long  a  life  in  which  to  develop 
his  art  as  was  Titian.  He  was  a  mere  boy  when  he 
began  to  paint,  and  he  w^as  still  busy  with  his  brush 
when  stricken  with  plague  at  the  age  of  ninety-nine. 

The  years  between  were  full  of  activity,  and  every 
decade  was  marked  by  some  specially  notable  work 
as  by  a  golden  milestone.  The  Assumption  of  the 
Virgin  was  painted  at  the  age  of  forty,  the  Pesaro 
Madonna  at  fifty,  the  Presentation  of  the  Virgin  in 
his  early  sixties,  the  portrait  of  Philip  II.  at  about 
seventy,  and  St.  John  the  Baptist  at  eighty.  How 
interesting  it  would  be  if  we  could  have  a  portrait 
of  the  man  himself  painted  at  each  decade  ! 

Titian,  however,  seems  to  have  been  quite  lacking 
in  personal  vanity.  Though  a  handsome  and  distin- 
guished-looking man,  a  fine  subject  for  a  portrait, 
he  seldom  painted  his  own  likeness.  We  value  the 
more  the  fine  portrait  of  our  frontispiece  painted  at 
the  age  of  eighty-five.  The  years  have  dealt  so 
gently  with  him  that  we  may  still  call  him  a  hand- 
some man.  Yet  the  face  has  the  shrunken  look  of 
old  age,  there  are  deep  hollows  about  the  eyes,  and 
the  features  are  sharpened  under  the  withered  skin. 


92  TITIAN 

There  is  an  expression  which  seems  almost  like  awe 
in  the  eyes.  The  painter  gazes  absently  into  space 
as  if  piercing  beyond  the  veil  which  separates  this 
world  from  the  next.  The  mood  does  not  seem  to 
be  one  of  reminiscence,  but  rather  of  grave  anticipa- 
tion. 

As  we  study  the  face  we  are  interested  to  read  in 
it  what  we  know  of  the  man's  character  and  history. 
Titian  was,  as  we  have  seen,  a  man  who  enjoyed  very 
much  the  good  things  of  life,  and  passed  most  of  his 
days  in  luxurious  surroundings.  He  was  thoroughly 
a  man  of  the  world,  at  ease  in  the  society  of  princes 
and  noblemen,  and  a  princely  host  in  his  own  house. 
Our  portrait  shows  that  his  courtly  bearing  did  not 
fail  him  in  his  old  age  :  we  can  fancy  the  ceremoni- 
ous courtesy  of  his  manner.  The  figure  is  extended 
well  below  the  waist,  perhaps  that  we  may  see  how 
erect  the  old  man  is. 

Titian,  too,  had  not  a  little  taste  for  literature 
and  the  society  of  the  learned.  His  fine  high  brow 
and  keen  eyes  are  sufficient  evidence  that  he  was  a 
man  of  intellect.  That  he  was  a  fond  father  we  have 
no  doubt,  and  we  like  to  trace  the  lines  of  kindliness 
in  the  fine  old  face. 

Age  cannot  quench  the  old  man's  ardor  for  his  art. 
The  brush  is  still  his  familiar  companion,  and  will  go 
with  him  to  the  end.  He  holds  it  here  in  his  right 
hand,  in  the  attitude  of  a  painter  pausing  to  get 
the  effect  of  his  work.  It  may  be  from  this  that  he 
would  have  us  think  that  his  glance  is  directed  to- 
ward his  canvas.     In  that  case,  the  serious  expres- 


rORTRAIT   OF   TITIAN  93 

sion  would  indicate  that  the  subject  is  a  solemn  one, 
perhaps  the  Ecce  Homo,  or  the  Pieta,  which  he 
painted  in  his  later  years. 

We  see  that  his  hand  had  not  lost  its  cunning 
in  summoning  before  us  the  real  presence  of  a  sitter, 
and  that  he  could  paint  his  own  likeness  as  readily 
as  that  of  another.  The  portrait  shows  us  the  best 
elements  in  a  man  of  a  many-sided  nature.  This  is 
Titian  the  master,  whom  the  world  honors  as  one  of 
the  greatest  of  his  kind. 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY  OF  PROPER  NAMES 
AND  FOREIGN  WORDS 


The  Diacritical  Marks  given  are  those  found  in  the  latest  edition  of  Webster's  Inter- 
national Dictionary. 

EXPLANATION   OF   DIACRITICAL   MARKS. 

A  Dash  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  long  sound,  as  in  fate,  eve,  time,  note,  use. 

A  Dash  and  a  Dot  C)  above  the  vowel  denote  tlie  same  sound,  less  prolonged. 

A  Curve  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  short  sound,  as  in  5dd,  end,  TU,  odd,  up. 

A  Dot  ( ■ )  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  obscure  sound  of  a  in  past,  abate,  America. 

A  Double  Dot  (")  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  broad  sound  of  a  in  father,  alms. 

A  Double  Dot  (..)  below  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  sound  of  a  in  ball. 

A  Wave  (~)  above  the  vowel  e  denotes  the  sound  of  e  in  her. 

A  Circumflex  Accent  ('')  above  the  vowel  o  denotes  the  sound  of  o  in  born. 

A  dot  (.)  below  the  vowel  u  denotes  the  sound  of  u  in  the  Frencli  language. 

N  indicates  that  the  preceding  vowel  has  the  French  nasal  tone. 

til  denotes  the  sound  of  th  in  the,  this. 

^  sounds  like  s. 

■c  sounds  like  k. 

§  sounds  like  z. 

g  is  hard  as  in  get. 

g  is  soft  as  m  gem. 


^etes  (ee'tez). 

Andalusia  (an-da-loo'zi-a  or  an-da-lob- 

the'a). 
Anthony'lan'to-m). 
Argo  (ar'go)- 

Armada  (jir-nia'da  or  iir-ma'da). 
Augsburg  (owgs'bocro). 

BafFo  (baf'fo). 

Baldassa're. 

Bel'la. 

Belvedere  (bel-ve-da're  or  -der'). 

Benedetto  (ba-na-det'to). 

Beth'leheni. 

Biri  (be're). 

Borgia  (bor'iii). 

Brussels  (brus'elz). 

Caesar  (se'zar). 
Calvary  (kal'va-ri)' 


Canaan  (ka'n.'in  or  ka'na-An). 
Carlton  (kiirl'tun). 
Casa  C4rande  (kii'sji  griin'da). 
Castiglione  (kiis-tel-yo'na). 
Caxton  (kaks'tun). 
Ceneda  (elia-na'da). 
Cbristopher  (kris'to-fgr). 
Cleodolinda  (kla-o-do-lin'da). 
Clos'son. 
Colchis  (kol'kLs). 
Cornelio  (kor-na'le-6). 
Cristoforo  (kres-to'ff)-ro). 
Cu'pid. 

Diocletian  (di-o-kle'.shi-an). 

Ecce  Homo  (ek'ke,  or  ek'se,  ho'mo). 
Eleanora  (a-l.vo-no'rji). 
Elizabeth  (e-liz'a-beth). 
Emmanuel  (em-raan'Q-el). 


96 


TITIAN 


Fgr'dinand. 

Flem'ing. 

Flor'ence. 

Francesco  (fran-ehes'ko). 

Franciscan  (fran-sis'kan). 

Frari  (t'rii're). 

Ga'briel. 

Gareth. 

Giorgione  (jor-jo'na). 

Gonziiga. 

Granii'da. 

guinipe  (gaNp). 

Guinevere  (gwin'e-ver). 

Hebrew  (lie'broo). 
Hecate  (hek'a-te). 
Herod  (her'ud). 
Herodians  (her-o'di-anz). 

Isabella  (Tz-a-bel'a). 
Isaiah  (i-za'ya). 
Israel  (iz'ra-el). 

Jacopo  (ya'ko-po). 

Jameson  (jii'me-sun). 

Jason  (ja'sun). 

Jerome  (je-roni'  or  jer'ura). 

Jerii'salem. 

Joachim  (jo'a-kira). 

Jor'dan. 

Jude'a. 

Ju'no. 

Kingsley  (liingz'li). 

Lavin'ia. 

Legenda  Aurea  I'leg-en'da  ow're-a  or 

le-jen'da  a're-a). 
Leon,  Ponce  de  (pon'tha  da  la-on'). 
Ijeonardo  (la-o-nar'do), 
Levites  (le'vitz). 
Lot'to. 
Lynette  (li-nef). 

Madon'na. 
Magni'ficat. 
mandola  (nian-do'la). 
Man'tua. 


Maximilian  (mak-si-mil'i-an). 
Mede'a. 

Men'delssohn. 

Messiah. 

Metamor'phose.s. 

Milan  (mil'an  or  nii-lau'). 

Mrl5. 

Murano  (mcK)-ra'no). 

Miirillo  (mob-rel'yo). 

Naz'areth. 

Netherlands  (neth'gr-landz). 

Offero  (of'fe-ro). 
Ovid  (ov'id). 

Pad'iia. 

Pal'estine. 

Pallavicino,  Argentina  (ar-g^en-te'ns 

pal-la-ve-che'noj. 
Pal'ma. 
Pa'phos. 
Par'ma. 

Pesari  (pa-sa're). 

Pesaro,  Jacopo  (ya'ko-po  pa-sa'ro). 
Pharisee  (far'i-se). 
Pieta  (pe-a'tii). 
Portugal  (por'tu-gal). 
Portuguese  (por'tu-gez). 
Priscianese  (pris-che-a-na'sa). 

Reggio  (red' jo). 

Rovere,  Francesco  Maria  deila  (fran- 

ches'ko  ma-re'a  del'la  ro-va'raj. 
Riis'kin. 

Sadducees  (sad'tt-sez). 

.Salome  (sa-ld'me). 

Sarcinelli,  Cornelio  (kor-na'le-o  siir 

che-nel'le). 
Serravalle  (ser-ra-val'la). 
Seville  (s6-vil'). 

Titian  (tish'an). 

Uffizi  (m.f-fet'se). 
Urbiuo  (obr-be'no). 

Van  Dyck  (van  dik'). 


PRONOUNCING   VOCABULARY 


97 


Vasari  (va-sii're). 
Velasquez  (va-las'kSth). 
Venetian  ( ve-ne'shau). 
Venice  (ven'is). 
Ve'nus. 

Veronese  (va-ro-na'za). 
Vesa'lTus. 
Vien'na. 

Vinci,  Leonardo   da   (lii-o-niir'do   dji 
Tin'che). 


Voragine,  Jacopo  de  (yii'ko-po  da  vo- 

ra-je'na). 
Vul'gate. 

Wesley  (wes'li). 

Yuste  (yotis'til). 

Zaeliarias  (zak-a-ri'as). 


RAPHAEL 
1483-1520 


nttu\\  \u\uii«v»i™>  »\>^i^ft\li^'ii™¥^'''l"^i'"^l\^l|i'ii^\w 


Aiinari,  Photo. 


RAPHAEL   SANZIO   D'   URBINO  (by  himself) 
UJfizi  Gallery,  Florence 


THE    MADONNA    OF    THE    CHAIR 

In  early  clays  an  Italian  in  addressing  a  lady  used 
the  word  Madonna,  which,  like  the  French  word 
Madame,  means  My  Lady.  Now  he  says  Signora ; 
Madonna  would  have  to  him  an  old-fashioned  sound. 
To  the  rest  of  the  world  this  word  Madonna  has 
come  to  be  applied  almost  wholly  to  the  Virgin 
Mary,  with  or  without  the  child  Jesus ;  and  as  Ra- 
phael painted  a  great  many  pictures  of  the  Madonna 
for  churches  or  other  sacred  places,  a  name  has  been 
given  to  each,  drawn  usually  from  some  circum- 
stance about  it. 

The  Madonna  of  the  Chair  is  so  called  because  in 
this  picture  the  Virgin  is  seated.  She  is  sitting  in 
a  low  chair,  holding  her  child  on  her  knee,  and 
encircling  him  with  her  arms.  Her  head  is  laid 
tenderly  against  the  child's,  and  she  looks  out  of 
the  picture  with  a  tranquil,  happy  sense  of  motherly 
love. 

The  child  has  the  rounded  limbs  and  playful  ac- 
tion of  the  feet  of  a  healthy^  warm-blooded  infant, 
and  he  nestles  into  his  mother's  embrace  as  snugly 
as  a  young  bird  in  its  nest.  But  as  he  leans  against 
the  mother's  bosom  and  follows  her  gaze,  there  is 
a   serious   and  even    grand  expression   in    his  eyes 


2  RAPHAEL 

which  Raphael  and  other  painters  always  sought  to 
give  to  the  child  Jesus  to  mark  the  difference  be- 
tween him  and  common  children. 

By  the  side  of  the  Madonna  is  the  child  who  is 
to  grow  up  as  St.  John  the  Baptist.  He  carries  a 
reed  cross,  as  if  to  herald  the  death  of  the  Saviour ; 
his  hands  are  clasped  in  prayer,  and  though  the 
other  two  look  out  of  the  jDicture  at  us,  he  fixes  his 
steadfast  look  on  the  child,  in  ardent  worship. 

Around  each  of  the  heads  is  very  faintly  seen  a 
nimbus,  as  it  is  called  ;  that  is,  the  old  painters  were 
wont  to  distinguish  sacred  persons  by  a  circle  about 
the  head.  Sometimes,  as  here,  the  circle  is  a  golden 
line  only  ;  sometimes  it  is  a  gold  band  almost  like  a 
plate  against  which  the  head  is  set.  This  circular 
form  took  the  name  Nimbus  from  the  Latin  word 
for  a  cloud,  as  if  the  heads  of  sacred  persons  were 
in  an  unearthly  surrounding.  It  is  also  called  a 
halo.  Such  a  representation  is  a  symbol  or  sign  to 
indicate  those  higher  and  more  mysterious  qualities 
which  are  beyond  the  artist's  power  to  portray. 

This  simple  composition  is  a  perfect  round,  and 
if  one  studies  it  attentively  one  will  see  how  curved 
and  flowing  are  all  the  lines  within  the  circle  ;  even 
the  back  of  the  chair,  though  perpendicular,  swells 
and  curves  into  roundness.  It  is  by  such  simple 
means  as  this  that  the  painter  gives  pleasure  to  the 
eye.  The  harmony  of  the  lines  of  the  composition 
\iiakes  a  perfect  expression  of  the  peaceful  group 
centred  thus  about  the  divine  child. 

It  is  a  home  scene  and  one  such  as  Raphael  might 


Alinari,  Fhoto. 


MADONNA   OF   THE    CHAIR 
Piiii  Gdllerv,  Florence 


THE   MADONNA   OF   THE   CHAIR  i 

have  seen  in  Rome  in  his  own  time.  Not  unlikely 
he  saw  a  mother  enfolding-  her  child  thus  w'hen  he 
was  taking-  a  walk  at  the  quiet  end  of  day,  and 
cauo'ht  at  once  a  suo-gestion  from  the  scene  for  a 
Madonna.  There  is  indeed  an  old  legend  which 
grew  up  about  this  picture,  relating  the  supposed 
circumstances  under  which  Raphael  found  a  charm- 
ing' family  group  which  served  him  as  a  model,  and 
which  he  rapidly  sketched  upon  the  head  of  a  cask  ; 
the  circular  form  of  the  picture  is  thus  accounted 
for.  Whether  or  not  this  pretty  story  is  true,  it  is 
certain  that  the  Madonna  of  the  Chair  is  a  true 
picture  of  home  life  either  in  Raphael's  time  or  even 
in  our  own  day.  The  mother  wears  a  handker- 
chief of  many  colors  over  her  shoulders,  and  another 
on  her  head  like  the  Roman  scarf  one  still  sees 
nowadays. 

We  may  see  what  delight  and  reverence  Madonna 
pictures  like  this  have  awakened  as  we  read  the 
words  of  an  old  chant.  In  (juaint  diction  and  with 
fanciful  imagery  the  writer  tried  to  express  his  feel- 
ing's in  the  presence  of  a  painting  which,  if  not  this 
veritable  Madonna  of  the  Chair,  was  certainly  very 
like  it. 

"  When  I  view  the  mother  holding 
In  her  arms  tlie  heavenly  boy, 
Thonsand  blissful  thoughts  unfolding 
Melt  my  heart  with  sweetest  joy. 

"  As  the  sun  his  radiance  flinging 
Shines  upon  the  bright  expanse. 
So  the  child  to  Mary  clinging 
Doth  her  gentle  heart  entrance 


RAPHAEL 

"  See  the  Virgin  Mother  beaming  ! 
Jesus  by  her  arms  embraced, 
Dew  ou  softest  roses  gleaming, 
Violet  with  lily  chaste  ! 

"  Each  round  other  fondly  twining, 
Pour  the  shafts  of  mutual  love, 
Thick  as  flowers  in  meadow  shining, 
Countless  as  the  stars  above. 

''  Oh,  may  one  such  arrow  glowing, 

Sweetest  Child,  which  thou  dost  dapfc 
Thro'  thy  mother's  bosom  going. 
Blessed  Jesus,  pierce  my  heart." 


II 

ABRAHAM  AND  THE  THREE  ANGELS 

In  the  story  of  Abraham,  as  related  in  our  Bible, 
we  read  of  the  wandering-  and  adventurous  life  of 
die  patriarch  as  he  moved  from  place  to  place.  In 
process  of  time  he  became  "  very  rich  in  cattle,  in 
silver,  and  in  oold."  He  was  as  brave  as  he  was 
industrious.  When  Lot,  his  brother's  son,  who 
dwelt  in  Sodom,  was  taken  captive  by  some  foreign 
kings  who  had  conquered  the  king  of  Sodom,  Abra- 
ham armed  his  large  company  of  servants  and  went 
to  the  rescue.  He  recovered  not  only  his  nephew, 
but  all  the  booty  which  the  victors  had  taken. 
Moreover,  Abraham  was  a  man  of  vision  as  well  as 
of  action,  a  man  who  feared  God  and  sought  right- 
eousness. 

In  his  old  ao'e  he  was  livino-  with  his  ao-ed  wife 
Sarah  on  the  plains  of  Mamre.  "  He  sat  in  the 
tent  door  in  the  heat  of  the  day,"  the  story  goes 
on,^  "  and  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  looked,  and  lo, 
three  men  stood  by  him  :  and  when  he  saw  them, 
he  ran  to  meet  them  from  the  tent  door,  and  bowled 
himself  toward  the  ground,  and  said,  '  My  Lord,  if 
now  I  have  found  favour  in  thy  sight,  pass  not 
away,  I  pray  thee,  from  thy  servant  :    let   a  little 

^  Genesis,  ebapter  xviii.,  verses  1-8. 


8  RAPHAEL 

water,  I  pray  you,  be  fetched,  and  wash  your  feet, 
and  rest  yourselves  under  the  tree :  and  I  Avill  fetch 
a  morsel  of  bread,  and  comfort  ye  your  hearts  ;  after- 
that  ye  shall  pass  on  :  for  therefore  are  ye  come  to 
your  servant.'  And  they  said,  '  So  do,  as  thou  hast 
said.' 

"  And  Abraham  hastened  into  the  tent  unto  Sarah, 
and  said,  '  Make  ready  quickly  three  measures  of 
fine  meal,  knead  it,  and  make  cakes  upon  the  hearth.' 
And  Abraham  ran  unto  the  herd,  and  fetcht  a  calf 
tender  and  good,  and  gave  it  unto  a  young  man ; 
and  he  hasted  to  dress  it.  And  he  took  butter,  and 
milk,  and  the  calf  which  he  had  dressed,  and  set  it 
before  them  ;  and  he  stood  by  them  under  the  tree, 
and  they  did  eat." 

In  the  picture  we  see  Abraham  welcoming  his 
strange  visitors  in  front  of  his  simple  dwelling-place. 
He  is  dressed  in  Oriental  robes  and  bows  himself  to 
the  ground  after  the  custom  of  the  Eastern  people, 
who  are  noted  for  their  courtesy.  He  offers  hospi- 
tality not  as  a  favor  to  his  guests,  but  as  a  privilege 
which  he  craves  from  them.  His,  not  theirs,  is  the 
honor,  he  seems  to  say. 

The  three  angels  have  a  mysterious  air.  They 
are  in  human  form,  and  yet  they  are  unlike  ordi- 
nary visitors.  Their  attitudes,  the  flowing  of  the 
robes,  their  gestures,  all  denote  something  unusual. 
While  the  three  stand  with  outstretched  hands  as  if 
encouraging  and  blessing  their  host,  Sarah  peeps 
through  the  open  door  and  listens  to  the  talk.  A 
country    landscape,    such    as  may   be    seen   in    the 


ABRAHAM  AND  THE  THRP:E  ANGELS      11 

vineyards  of  Italy,  stretches  away  in  the  distance. 
Raphael  never  traveled  outside  his  own  country, 
and  painted  only  such  landscapes  as  were  familiar 
to  him. 

The  picture  was  intended  as  an  illustration  of 
the  Bible.  In  the  days  when  Raphael  was  painting, 
though  the  art  of  printing  had  been  invented,  only 
scholars  and  learned  men  could  read  books,  and 
those  which  were  printed  were  rarely  in  the  lan- 
guage which  the  people  spoke.  Men  and  Avomen 
did  indeed  hear  stories  read  out  of  the  Bible,  but 
they  knew  these  stories  chiefly  from  paintings,  and 
from  carvings  in  wood  and  stone.  Churches  and 
monasteries,  palaces  and  public  halls,  were  adorned 
with  fresco  paintings,  and  these  storied  walls  formed 
the  people's  literature. 

Now  the  Pope,  Leo  the  Tenth,  employed  Raphael 
to  decorate  parts  of  the  Vatican.  The  Vatican  was 
the  palace  of  the  Popes  in  Rome,  and  one  of  the 
open  courts  of  the  palace  had  a  gallery  or  Loggia, 
as  it  is  called,  built  about  its  three  sides.  Raphael 
caused  to  be  painted  on  the  Avails  of  this  gallery 
festoons  of  flowers  and  fruit  and  sometimes  animals, 
all  surrounded  and  entwined  with  graceful  orna- 
ments. But  it  was  the  vaulted  ceiling  of  the  gal- 
lery that  he  treated  with  the  greatest  care.  He 
made  a  great  series  of  pictures  from  scenes  in  the 
Old  Testament,  and  some  from  the  New,  and  his 
pupils  painted  these  upon  the  ceiling,  so  that  it 
came  to  be  known  popularly  as  "  Raphael's  Bible." 

The  ceiling  is  not  flat,  and  it  does  not  stretch 


12  RAPHAEL 

without  break,  but  the  gallery  is  like  a  succession 
of  arclied  porches,  and  the  ceiling  of  each  is  divided 
into  panels,  sloj^ing  in  four  directions,  with  a  flat 
panel  in  the  centre.  These  panels  are  filled  with 
charming  pictures  which  you  can  see  by  standing 
with  your  head  thrown  back. 

Raphael's  Bible  begins  with  the  creation  of  the 
world ;  then  follow  the  history  of  Adam  and  Eve, 
and  Noah  and  the  deluo-e  ;  in  the  fourth  section 
is  the  story  of  Abraham  told  in  four  compositions. 
Thus,  besides  this  picture  of  Abraham  and  the 
Three  Angels,  there  is  the  scene  where  Lot  and  his 
family  are  fleeing  from  Sodom,  and  his  wife  is 
turned  into  a  pillar  of  salt.  There  is  also  the  meet- 
ing of  Abraham  and  Melchisedec  (after  Abraham's 
rescue  of  Lot),  and  a  picture  of  God  promising  a 
long  line  of  descendants  to  Abraham. 

Li  this  open  gallery  the  people  of  Rome  could 
walk  and  read  the  Bible  in  a  succession  of  pictures. 
Since  these  and  similar  pictures  and  statues  and 
carvings  were  everywhere,  men,  women,  and  children 
read  them  as  they  would  read  books,  and  a  popular 
painter  was  like  a  popular  story-teller  nowadays. 


O 


m 

THE    MIRACULOUS    DKAUGHT    OF    FISHES 

Another  of  the  Bible  scenes  Avhicli  Raphael 
painted  was  one  which  is  told  in  the  New  Testament 
concerning  the  Lord  Jesus  and  his  Apostles.  Some 
of  these,  as  Peter  and  Andrew,  James  and  John, 
were  fishermen  who  lived  near  the  lake  of  Gen- 
nesaret  in  Galilee,  and  had  spent  most  of  their  lives 
in  their  boats.  They  had  been  much  with  their 
Master,  and  sometimes  left  their  boats  to  go  with  him 
throuoh  the  country,  when  he  talked  with  them  and 
healed  the  sick,  and  told  the  glad  tidings,  for  that 
is  what  the  word  Gospel  means.  One  day  he  had 
been  using  Simon  Peter's  boat  as  a  sort  of  pulpit 
from  which  to  speak  to  the  people  on  the  shore. 

"  N(?w  when  he  had  left  speaking,  he  said  unto 
Simon,  '  Launch  out  into  the  deep,  and  let  down 
your  nets  for  a  draught.'  And  Simon  answering 
said  unto  him,  '  Master,  we  have  toiled  all  the  night, 
and  have  taken  nothing  :  nevertheless  at  thy  word 
I  will  let  down  the  net.'  And  when  they  had  thig 
done,  thev  inclosed  a  o^reat  multitude  of  fishes :  and 
their  net  brake.  And  they  beckoned  unto  their 
partners,  which  were  in  the  other  ship,  that  they 
should  come  and  help  them.  And  they  came,  and 
filled  both  the  ships,  so  that  they  began  to  sink. 


14  RAPHAEL 

"  When  Simon  Peter  saw  it,  he  fell  down  ai: 
Jesus's  knees,  saying,  '  Depart  from  me  :  for  I  am 
a  sinful  man,  0  Lord.'  For  he  was  astonished,  and 
all  that  were  with  him,  at  the  draught  of  the  fishes 
which  they  had  taken  ;  and  so  was  also  James  and 
John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  which  were  partners  with 
Simon.  And  Jesus  said  unto  Simon,  '  Fear  not : 
from  henceforth  thou  shalt  catch  men.'  "  ^ 

In  the  picture  we  see  the  two  boats  laden  with 
fish,  one  containing  Jesus  with  Peter  and  Andrew, 
and  the  other  containing  the  partners  hauling  in  the 
net.  The  lake  stretches  away  in  the  distance  until 
it  seems  to  meet  the  sky  in  a  line  of  light  at  the 
horizon.  On  the  opposite  shore  are  the  people  to 
whom  Jesus  was  speaking  before  the  fishermen 
launched  out.  Others  on  the  bank  are  watching"  to 
get  some  of  the  fish  which  are  not  hauled  in.  There 
is  a  boat  over  there  just  pushing  off.  Fishhawks 
hover  overhead,  and  on  the  nearer  shore  are  herons. 

Just  as  before  in  the  Madonna  of  the  Chair  we 
saw  how  all  the  lines  in  the  picture  were  drawn  as 
it  were  in  a  circle,  so  here  it  is  the  long  horizontal 
line  on  which  the  picture  is  built  :  the  boats  extend- 
ing across  the  foreground,  the  distant  shore,  and 
the  horizon  line  swelling  into  the  upland.  Some 
one  has  said  that  the  boats  are  so  placed  that  it 
looks  as  if  the  figures  were  slowly  passing  before 
the  eye  of  the  spectator. 

Now  tliis  picture  is  not,  like  so  many,  painted  on 
canvas  or  on  wood.     Raphael  was  bidden  to  make 

^  Luke,  chapter  v.,  verses  4-10. 


THE  MIRACULOUS   DRAUGHT   OF  FISHES  17 

designs  for  some  great  hangings  or  tapestries  for 
the  chapel  in  the  Vatican  palace  known  as  the 
Sistine  Chapel.  He  made  his  drawings,  cartoons 
they  are  called,  on  a  coarse  kind  o£  paper,  the  pieces 
put  together  on  a  great  frame,  and  these  cartoons 
were  sent  to  Arras  in  Flanders,  where  they  were 
copied  in  tapestry  by  skillful  artists. 

Raphael  intended  to  re])resent  scenes  in  the  lives 
of  the  Apostles,  and  his  series  was  in  two  groups  of 
five  each,  the  first  centring  about  the  life  of  St. 
Peter,  the  second  about  the  hfe  of  St.  Paul.  The 
tapestries  are  in  the  Vatican  palace,  but  seven  of  the 
cartoons  are  in  the  South  Kensington  Museum  in 
London.  There  they  are  kept  with  great  care,  but 
they  have  led  a  perilous  life.  When  they  were  sent 
to  Arras,  they  were  cut  in  strips  for  the  convenience 
of  the  weavers,  and  pricked  with  holes.  Then  after 
they  had  been  copied  in  the  tapestries,  they  were 
thrown  aside,  as  so  much  waste  paper,  and  lay  in  a 
cellar,  neglecf;ed,  for  a  hundred  years.  Fortunately 
they  were  not  destroyed,  and  the  fragments  were 
found  in  1630,  by  the  great  Flemish  painter  Rubens, 
who  knew  their  value.  He  advised  King  Charles  I. 
of  England  to  buy  them,  and  they  were  still  regarded 
as  patterns  for  ta])estries.  The  king  set  up  a  man- 
ufactory at  Mortlake,  and  some  tapestries  were  made 
from  these  cartoons. 

When  the  king  was  put  to  death,  Cromwell  bought 
the  cartoons,  and  put  them  away  in  some  boxes  at 
Whitehall.  When  Charles  IT.  came  to  the  throne, 
he  tried  to   sell   them  to  France,  but  was  stopped, 


18  RAPHAEL 

and  finally  they  found  a  home  at  Hampton  Court 
Palace.  A  few  years  ago  they  were  removed  to  their 
present  place  of  keeping-. 

The  original  tapestries,  as  we  have  said,  were  de- 
signed for  the  Sistine  Chapel,  but  they  were  long 
ago  removed  from  that  place  and  are  now  preserved 
in  the  Gallery  of  Tapestries  in  the  Vatican. 

The  colors  of  the  tapestries  have  faded,  but  color 
never  formed  the  chief  attraction  of  these  composi- 
tions. What  one  always  admired,  and  can  still 
admire  in  engravings  and  other  copies,  is  what  we 
call  the  dramatic  character  of  the  picture,  the  way 
in  which  the  painter  has  so  arranged  his  figures 
as  to  make  them  tell  a  story  in  a  lively,  graphic 
fashion. 

He  can  also,  as  his  eye  is  more  and  more  trained, 
discover  the  beauty  which  lies  in  the  drawing  of 
forms,  in  masses  and  in  lines.  For  an  engraving  or 
a  pencil  drawing  in  black  and  white  can  give  a 
great  deal  of  pleasure,  and  some  painters  make  bet- 
ter pictures  with  pen  and  ink  than  they  can  with  a 
paint-box  and  brushes. 


IV 

THE    SACRIFICE    AT    LYSTRA 

The  Sacrifice  at  Lystra  was  another  of  the  great 
tapestries,  and  was  in  the  second  series  o£  five  which 
had  to  do  with  the  Hfe  of  St.  Paul  as  recorded  in 
the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  The  apostle  was  on  a 
journey  with  his  comjianion  Barnahas,  and  they  were 
teaching  and  healing  as  they  went.  At  Lystra  they 
had  performed  a  wonderful  cure  in  healiiig  a  man 
who  had  been  a  cripple  from  his  birth. 

"  And  when  the  people  saw  what  Paul  had  done, 
they  lifted  up  their  voices,  saying  in  the  speech  of 
Lycaonia,  *  The  gods  are  come  down  to  us  in  the 
likeness  of  men.'  And  they  called  Barnabas  Ju- 
piter, aTid  Paul  Mercurius,  because  he  was  the  chief 
speaker. 

"  Then  the  priest  of  Jupiter,  which  was  before  their 
city,  brought  oxen  and  garlands  unto  the  gates,  and 
would  have  done  sacrifice  with  the  people.  AVhich, 
when  the  apostles,  Barnabas  and  Paul,  heard  of, 
they  rent  their  clothes,  and  ran  in  among  the  peo- 
ple, crying  out,  and  saying,  '  Sirs,  why  do  ye  these 
things  ?  We  also  are  men  of  like  passions  with  you, 
and  jjreach  unto  you  that  ye  should  turn  from  these 
vanities  unto  the  livino;  God.'   .  .   . 


20  RAPHAEL 

"  And  with  these  sayings  scarce  restrained  they 
the  people,  that  they  had  not  done  sacrifice  unto 
them."  ^ 

In  the  picture  we  see  the  two  apostles  standing 
on  a  platform  at  the  left,  by  the  steps  of  a  temple, 
just  as  the  crowd  sweeps  along  from  the  other  side 
with  two  oxen  in  the  midst  of  them.  It  was  just 
such  a  sacrificial  procession  as  was  formed  on  the 
days  when  they  honored  their  gods  in  the  temples. 
Paul  and  Barnabas  receive  the  demonstration  with 
dismay,  the  former  rending  his  garments,  and  the 
latter  clasping  his  hands  in  perplexity. 

In  the  tumult  of  many  figures  we  pick  out  five 
principal  persons.  At  the  right  is  the  restored  crip- 
ple whose  recovery  is  the  origin  of  the  excitement. 
His  folded  hands,  raised  in  adoration,  come  against 
the  back  of  a  youth  who,  quick  to  see  the  apostles' 
displeasure,  reaches  out  an  arm  to  stay  the  sacrifice. 
His  hand  nearly  touches  the  shoulder  of  the  sturdy 
priest  in  front,  who  is  lifting  his  axe  to  deal  the 
deathblow  to  the  sacrificial  ox.  The  priest's  up- 
raised hand  is  brought  near  the  elbow  of  Paul,  be- 
hind whom  stands  his  fellow  apostle.  Thus  there 
is  a  continuous  chain  extending  across  the  picture 
to  link  together  those  who  make  up  the  plot  of  the 
story.  The  most  attractive  face  in  the  company  is 
that  of  the  youth  in  the  centre,  eager  and  hand- 
some amono;  the  stoUd  countenances  surroundinor 
him.  The  apostles  themselves  are  presently  to  join 
him  in  his  efforts  to  restrain  the  people,  but  for  the 

^  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  chapter  xiv.,  verses  11-15,  18. 


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THE   SACRIFICE   AT   LYSTRA  23 

moment,  single-handed  among  so  many,  he  springs 
forward  fearlessly  to  oppose  the  purpose  of  the  mob. 

These  five  figures  thus  linked  together  carry  the 
story,  but  how  abundantly  the  scene  is  enriched  by 
the  minor  characters  !  There  are  not  a  great  many 
figures,  and  each  head  is  seen  perfectly,  so  that  one 
can  count  the  actual  number  of  persons  present ;  but 
the  first  impression  made  on  the  eye  is  of  a  hurrying, 
eager  crowd.  As  one  looks  more  closely,  he  dis- 
covers particular  persons  who  help  to  fill  out  the 
story.  There  are  two  priestesses  kneeling  beside 
the  ox  that  is  to  be  sacrificed.  One  figure,  other 
than  the  cripple  wdio  has  been  healed,  is  shown  in 
the  attitude  of  prayer.  Perhaps  the  old  man  at  the 
extreme  right  is  drawing  aside  the  robe  of  the  crip- 
ple, curious  to  see  if  there  are  any  signs  of  the 
miracle,  or  if  that  really  was  the  leg  which  was 
helpless. 

The  two  children  who  stand  by  the  altar,  one 
playing  the  pipes,  the  other  with  a  book  of  music, 
are  very _^  characteristic  of  Raphael,  who  loved  thus 
to  introduce  a  playful,  innocent  element.  The  sing- 
ing child  has  his  eyes  bent  on  the  ram  which  is  led 
up  for  sacrifice. 

Raphael,  like  other  illustrators  of  the  Bible,  does 
not  always  follow  exactly  the  text  which  he  is  to 
illustrate.  The  people  called  Barnabas  Ju})iter,  and 
Paul  Mercury.  This  would  seem  to  show  that  Bar- 
nabas was  a  great,  imposing  figure,  and  Paul,  accord- 
ing to  tradition,  was  a  small,  undersized  man ;  but 
there  is  no  such  contrast  to  be  seen  here. 


M  RAPHAEL 

By  a  happy  suggestion,  the  painter  has  placed  in 
the  background  on  a  pedestal  a  statue  of  Mercury. 
We  know  it  by  the  winged  stall"  which  Mercury  is 
supposed  to  carry  as  a  sign  of  his  office  of  messenger 
of  the  oods. 

Raphael  painted  at  a  time  when  scholars  and 
artists  were  enthusiastic  over  the  rediscovery  of  the 
literature  and  art  of  the  ancient  world.  Such  a 
scene  as  this,  therefore,  appealed  to  him  ;  for  he 
could  not  only  depict  a  Biblical  incident,  but  he 
could  make  his  picture  a  study  of  ancient  life.  The 
architecture,  the  altar,  the  figure  of  Mercury,  the 
"wreath-bound  heads,  the  sacrificial  act  itself,  were  all 
such  as  he  could  imagine  from  ancient  Greece.  In- 
deed,  the  whole  picture  is  like  a  copy  of  an  antique 
bas-relief  ;  and  in  the  original  cartoon  there  is,  be- 
low the  picture,  a  decorative  border  studied  from 
antique  sculpture,  and  below  that  still  an  ornamental 
edge  which  was  very  common  in  Greek  work. 

And  yet,  though  Raphael  thus  made  much  of  the 
Greek  spirit  in  his  design,  he  was  like  all  great 
painters  of  his  day.  He  did  not  try  minutely  to 
repeat  Greek  life  as  he  imagined  it.  The  men  and 
women  and  children  were  like  those  he  was  wont  to 
see  in  Rome  or  Florence,  or  Urbino,  where  he  was 
born,  and  the  headdresses  were  such  as  the  women 
of  h?s  time  wore. 


U 


HELIODORUS  DRIVEN  FROM  THE  TEMPLE 

In  the  Vatican  palace  there  is  one  chamher  in  a 
series  of  chamljers  decorated  with  Raphael's  paint- 
ings which  is  called  in  Italian  Stanza  d'  Eliodoro,  or 
the  Heliodorns  Room.  The  name  is  taken  from  the 
first  of  the  paintings  which  cover  the  w^alls  of  the 
room. 

The  story  w^hich  Raphael  told  in  this  picture  is 
taken  from  an  incident  in  the  history  of  Jerusalem, 
which  is  related  in  one  of  the  hooks  of  the  Apoc- 
rypha and  in  Josephus's  History. 

It  was  at  a  time  when  Jerusalem  was  a  prosper- 
ous city,  owing  its  good  government  to  the  upright 
and  honorahle  character  of  the  high  priest  Onias. 
Through  his  efforts  a  large  fund  of  money  and 
treasure  had  been  laid  up  for  the  relief  of  widows 
and  orphans.  This  treasure  was  stored  in  the  sacred 
precincts  of  the  temple  and  carefully  guarded  for 
the  uses  for  which  it  was  intended. 

Now  it  came  about  that  a  distant  kinof  heard  of 
this  valuable  treasure  and  set  his  heart  upon  it.  He 
called  his  treasurer  Heliodorns,  and  straightway  sent 
him  to  Jerusalem  to  bring  back  the  treasure  by  fair 
means  or  foul.  Heliodorns  was  a  bold  man  ready 
for  his  evil  task.     Arriving  at  Jerusalem,  he  sought 


26  RAPHAEL 

out  Onias  and  made  his  demand,  whicli,  as  a  mattei 
of  course,  was  promptly  refused.  Heliodorus  then 
prepared  to  take  the  treasure  by  force,  and,  accom- 
panied by  his  men,  pushed  into  the  temple  amid  the 
lamentations  of  the  people  and  the  prayers  of  the 
priests.  But  just  as  the  robbers  had  laid  hands 
upon  the  coveted  treasure,  a  strange  thing  hap- 
pened ;  and  this  is  what  the  old  narrative  relates  :  — - 

"  There  ajipeared  unto  them  a  horse  with  a  terri- 
ble rider  upon  him,  and  adorned  with  a  very  fair 
covering,  and  he  ran  fiercely  and  smote  at  Helio- 
dorus with  his  forefeet,  and  it  seemed  that  he  that 
sat  upon  the  horse  had  complete  harness  of  gold. 

"  Moreover,  two  other  young  men  appeared  before 
him,  notable  in  strength,  excellent  in  beauty,  and 
comely  in  apparel,  who  stood  by  him  on  either  side, 
and  scourged  him  continually  and  gave  him  many 
sore  stripes. 

"  And  Heliodorus  fell  suddenly  unto  the  ground, 
and  was  compassed  with  great  darkness."  ^ 

In  the  picture  the  priests  still  kneel  at  the  distant 
altar  while  the  temple  treasures  are  being  borne 
away  in  heavy  chests  and  jars.  Meanwhile  swift 
retribution  overtakes  the  despoiler.  In  gallops  the 
mysterious  gold -armored  horseman,  his  prancing 
steed  crushing  the  prostrate  Heliodorus  under  his 
forefeet.  On  rush  the  two  celestial  avengers,  spring- 
ing through  the  air  in  great  flying  leaps.  Their 
feet  do  not  touch  the  ground  as,  with  outspread  arms 
and  wind-blown  hair,   they  bound   lightly  forward, 

'  Maccabees,  book  ii.,  chapter  iii.,  verses  25-27. 


HELIODORUS   DRIVEN   FROM   THE   TEMPLE        29 

raising  their  scourges  to  drive  out  the  enemy. 
Heliodorus  vainly  lifts  his  spear  to  save  himself  ; 
his  men  are  panic-stricken  ;  his  })lot  is  undone.  And 
yet  in  all  this  the  angelic  avengers  do  not  touch  one 
of  the  prostrate  or  falling  figures.  Even  the  horse's 
hoofs  are  not  planted  on  Heliodorus.  The  victory 
is  not  won  by  force,  but  by  the  mysterious  power  of 
celestial  spirits. 

Here  is  the  way  this  picture  affected  a  lover  of 
art  who  stood  before  it :  "  The  Scouroinjr  of  Heli- 
odorus  is  full  of  energy,  power,  and  movement. 
The  horse  and  his  rider  are  irresistible,  and  the 
scourging  youths,  terrible  as  embodied  lightning  ; 
mortal  weapons  and  mortal  muscles  are  pow^erless 
as  infancy  before  such  supernatural  energies.  Like 
flax  before  the  flame  —  like  leaves  before  the  storm 
—  the  strono-  man  and  his  attendants  are  consumed 
and  borne  away." 

There  is  an  interesting  contrast  in  this  great  pic- 
ture, for  while  all  this  terrible  action  is  ooino-  on 
at  one  &ide,  one  sees  in  an  opposite  part  a  group  of 
women  and  children,  looking  on  wdtli  astonishment 
and  alarm.  Near  bv  is  a  fiofure  carried  in  a  chair 
on  the  shoulders  of  strono-  men.  This  figure  is 
Pope  Julius  n.,  and  the  reason  why  Raphael  iutro- 
duced  him  into  the  painting  is  as  follows  :  — 

Julius  was  a  warlike  Pope  who  had  expelled  the 
enemies  of  the  church  fvom  the  Papal  territories 
and  enlaroed  the  boundaries  of  these  territories. 
He  was  also  a  great  patron  of  the  arts.  He  called 
on  Raphael  to  make  designs  for  this  chamber  which 


30  RAPHAEL 

should  represent  the  miraculous  deliverance  of  the 
church  from  her  secular  foes  ;  and  as  he  was  regarded 
as  the  chief  instrument  in  the  victory,  Raphael  made 
him  present  at  this  Expulsion  of  Heliodorus. 

Not  only  the  walls  of  the  Heliodorus  Room  are 
adorned  with  pictures,  but  the  ceiling  also  is  covered 
with  designs,  illustrating  four  Old  Testament  stories 
of  divine  promises  to  the  patriarchs :  The  Promise 
of  God  to  Abraham  of  a  numerous  posterity,^  The 
Sacrifice  of  Isaac,  Jacob's  Dream,  Moses  and  the 
Burnino'  Bush. 

Probably  Raphael,  who  had  friends  among  the 
cardinals  and  other  learned  men  of  Rome,  consulted 
them  as  to  the  selection  of  subjects  for  this  room. 
One  can  trace  the  thought  which  binds  them  all 
together.  On  the  ceiling  we  have  God's  promises 
made  to  his  people  of  old,  while  the  pictures  on  the 
walls  show  how  the  same  watchful  Providence  de- 
livered the  church  in  later  years. 

^  Sometimes  interpreted  as  God  appearing  to  Noah. 


VI 

THE    LIBERATION    OF    PETER 

On  the  wall  below  the  clesion  of  Jacob's  Dream, 
in  the  ceiling"  of  this  same  Heliodorus  Room,  is  the 
Liberation  of  Peter,  painted  above  and  on  each  side 
of  a  window.  The  story  is  taken  from  the  Acts  of 
the  Apostles.  Herod  the  king,  as  the  narrative  says, 
"  stretched  forth  his  hands  to  vex  certain  of  the 
church.  And  he  killed  James  the  brother  of  John 
with  the  sword.  And  because  he  saw  it  pleased  the 
Jews,  he  proceeded  further  to  take  Peter  also." 
The  story  of  the  imprisonment  and  liberation  of 
Peter  now  follows  :  — 

"  And  when  he  had  apprehended  him,  he  put  him 
in  prison,  and  delivered  him  to  four  quarternions  of 
soldiers  te  keep  him  ;  intending  after  Easter  to  bring 
him  forth  to  the  people.  Peter  therefore  was  kept 
in  prison  ;  but  prayer  was  made  without  ceasing  of 
the  church  unto  God  for  him. 

"  And  when  Herod  would  have  brought  him  forth, 
the  same  night  Peter  was  sleeping  between  two  sol- 
diers, bound  with  two  chains  ;  and  the  keepers  be- 
fore the  door  kept  the  prison.  And  behold,  the 
angel  of  the  Lord  came  upon  him,  and  a  light  shined 
in  the  prison  ;  and  he  smote  Peter  on  the  side,  and 
raised  him  up,  saying,  '  Arise  up  quickly.'     And  his 


32  RAPHAEL 

chains  fell  off  from  bis  hands.  And  the  angel  said 
unto  him,  '  Gird  thyself,  and  bind  on  thy  sandals.' 
And  so  he  did.  And  he  saith  unto  him,  '  Cast  thy 
garment  about  thee,  and  follow  me.'  And  he  went 
out,  and  followed  him,  and  wist  not  that  it  was  true 
which  was  done  by  the  angel ;  but  thought  he  saw 
a  vision."  ^ 

There  is  a  succession  of  scenes  in  this  story,  and 
as  the  window  runs  up  into  the  wall,  it  gave  Ra- 
phael an  opportunity  to  distribute  the  successive 
incidents  in  the  three  divisions  thus  formed.  Over 
the  window,  accordingly,  is  the  scene  of  the  awaken- 
ing of  Peter.  The  angel,  surrounded  by  a  blaze  of 
light,  comes  and  smites  the  sleeping  apostle  on  the 
side,  but  his  action  also  indicates  that  he  raises  him 
and  points  to  the  door.  Peter  is  shown  bound  by 
two  chains,  each  fastening  him  to  one  of  the  soldiers, 
who  are  both  asleep  at  their  posts.  The  bars 
through  whicli  we  see  the  scene  are  the  prison  bars. 

At  the  right  of  the  window,  the  angel  is  shown 
leading  Peter  past  the  guards,  who  are  asleep  on  the 
steps.  The  prison  is  indicated  by  the  thick  wall 
and  solid  masonry,  by  the  side  of  which  the  two 
figures  are  passing.  The  soldiers  by  their  attitude 
show  how  sound  asleep  they  are,  —  one  stretched  out 
at  half  length,  trying  to  look  as  if  he  were  awake, 
the  other  with  his  head  fallen  forward,  and  his 
hands  clasped  over  his  shield. 

In  both  of  these  scenes,  the  apostle  is  marked  by 
the  sio-n  of  the  nimbus,  which  we  saw  in  the  first 

^  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  chapter  xii.,  verses  4^9. 


il 

a:  -:• 


THE   LIBERATION  OF  PETER  35 

picture,  the  Madonna  of  the  Chair.  But  if  you  look 
narrowly,  you  will  see  that  Raphael  has  added  that 
other  sign  by  which  Peter  is  distinguished.  He 
carries  a  great  key.  The  reason  is  to  be  found  in 
the  words  of  our  Lord  to  hiui  as  recorded  in  the 
Gospel  of  Matthew,  the  sixteenth  chapter  and  nine- 
teenth verse.  The  key  is  a  most  fitting  symbol  here, 
for  it  seems  to  imply  that  the  apostle  is  himself 
opening  the  gates  of  his  prison  house.  The  angel 
holds  his  hand,  as  an  older  person  might  lead  a 
child  in  the  dark.  Peter  is  too  dazed  to  know  what 
has  really  happened. 

On  the  left  is  depicted  the  moment  when  the 
guards  are  awakened  and  discover  that  their  prisoner 
has  escaped.  It  is  an  animated  scene  illustrating 
the  simple  words  of  the  gospel  narrative  :  "  Now 
as  soon  as  it  was  day,  there  was  no  small  stir 
among  the  soldiers,  what  was  become  of  Peter."  A 
man  with  a  torch  tells  by  his  gesture  that  some- 
thing extraordinary  has  happened,  and  the  one 
whom  he  arouses  shows  by  his  face  and  his  uplifted 
hand  how  startled  he  is  ;  the  lio-ht  from  the  torch 
is  too  dazzling  for  another  just  awakened,  and  the 
last  of  all  a})pears  to  be  the  one  whom  we  saw  asleep 
over  his  shield. 

Even  in  this  very  inadequate  copy  of  a  great 
painting,  we  can  see  what  is  the  noblest  and  most 
pervading  beauty.  It  is  the  treatment  of  light. 
The  angel  appears  in  the  compartment  over  the  win- 
dow in  a  blaze  of  light,  and  this  light  illuminates 
all  the  other  figures.     So  it  is   in   the   right-hancj 


36  RAPHAEL 

division,  and  Peter  especially  shows  it,  for  the  side 
away  from  the  angel  is  scarcely  to  be  made  out  in 
the  gloom.  In  the  left-hand  division,  the  torch,  the 
moon  strugfo-lino^  throuoh  the  clouds,  and  the  break- 
ing  of  the  dawn  diffuse  a  light  over  the  whole 
scene. 

It  is  as  if  Raphael  meant  to  make  it  clear  that  the 
supernatural  light  from  the  angel  was  brighter  and 
more  intense  than  the  li"lit  which  falls  from  natural 
means.  Thus  the  Liberation  of  Peter,  like  the  Ex- 
pulsion of  Heliodorus,  keeps  in  mind  the  power  of 
the  divine  over  the  human.  Some  have  thought, 
besides,  that  Raphael  had  in  his  thought  the  recent 
delivery  from  captivity  of  Leo  X.,  the  Pope  who 
succeeded  Pope  Julius  II.,  for  the  decoration  of  the 
Heliodorus  Room  was  done  successively  under  these 
two  popes. 


VII 

THE  HOLi"  FAMILY  OF  FRANCIS  i 

There  are  a  great  many  pictures  by  the  old  mas= 
ters  representing  what  is  known  as  the  Holy  Family. 
This  is  a  group  consisting  of  the  mother  and  child, 
with  one  or  more  additional  figures.  The  third 
figure  is  sometimes  the  infant  John  the  Baptist,  or 
it  may  be  Joseph  the  husband  of  Mary  ;  a  fourth 
figure  is  likely  to  be  St.  Elizabeth,  the  mother  of 
John  the  Baptist,  and  sometimes  all  five  of  these  are 
shown  in  a  group. 

That  is  the  case  with  the  painting  of  The  Holy 
Family  by  Raphael,  which  is  now  in  the  Louvre 
gallery  in'^Paris,  and  is  called  The  Holy  Family  of 
Francis  the  First,  because  Raphael  painted  the  })ic- 
ture  for  that  kino-  of  France.  It  is  not  difiicult  to 
make  out  the  several  figures,  for  the  painter  has 
followed  the  natural  order. 

The  light  falls  chiefiy  on  the  child  Jesus,  who  is 
springing  up,  as  Mary  lifts  him  from  his  cradle.  His 
happy,  joyous  face  is  raised  with  a  glad  smile  to  the 
down-glancing  mother.  She  has  eyes  only  for  him, 
and  into  her  face  there  has  come  a  look  of  sweet 
gravity  which  helps  one  to  see  that  this  is  more  than 
the  play  of  a  mother  and  child. 

Eagerly   reaching   forward  to   the   golden-haired 


38  RAPHAEL 

Jesus  is  the  swarthy  John  the  Baptist,  his  hands 
folded  in  the  gesture  of  prayer,  the  cross  which  he 
carries  as  the  herald  of  Jesus  leaning  against  his 
breast,  and  a  look  of  bright  wonder  in  his  face. 

Leaning  over  and  holding  him  is  his  mother. 
Elizabeth,  whom  the  great  painters  were  wont  to 
figure  as  an  old  woman,  after  the  description  of  her 
in  the  gospel  as  "  well  stricken  in  years."  She  also 
gazes  down  at  her  child  with  a  like  expression  of 
deep  feeling,  as  if:  she  always  carried  about  in  her 
mind  the  wonderful  scenes  which  attended  his  birth. 

Behind  the  group  is  Joseph,  the  husband  of 
Mary,  in  an  attitude  which  is  very  common  in  the 
old  pictures.  He  rarely  seems  to  be  a  part  of  the 
group.  He  stands  a  little  way  off  looking  on,  with 
a  thoughtful  air,  as  if  he  were  the  guardian  of  this 
pair.  Sometimes  he  is  shown  with  a  staff  or  crutch, 
and  it  may  be  that  here  he  rests  his  elbow  on  it, 
while  his  head  leans  upon  his  half -closed  hand. 

All  these  are  distinguished  by  the  nimbus  which 
encircles  the  head  of  a  sacred  person,  but  the  two 
other  figures  in  the  picture  have  no  nimbus,  for 
they  are  angels,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  outstretched 
wing  of  one  of  them,  and  by  the  pure  unearthly 
expression  on  their  faces.  One  of  these  angels 
strews  flowers  over  the  child  ;  the  other,  with  hands 
crossed  on  the  breast,  is  rapt  in  adoration. 

There  is  an  opening  which  shows  the  sky,  and  it 
almost  seems  as  if  the  angels  with  crossed  hands 
were  listening  to  some  divine  melody  that  came  in 
with  the  ansfelic  visitors.     The  whole  scene  is  bathed 


From  carbon  print  by  Braun,  ricment  &  Co. 

THE  HOLY   FAMILY  OF   FRANCIS   I. 
The  Louvre,  Paris 


I-. 


THE   HOLY   FAMILY   OF   FRANCIS   I  41 

in  lioflit,  and  the  lono^er  we  look  the  more  we  see 
the  beauty  of  the  lines  which  How  in  the  picture  as 
if  to  some  heavenly  music.  All  is  action  save  in 
the  grave,  contemplative  figure  of  Joseph  ;  and  his 
serious,  resting  attitude  by  its  contrast  makes  more 
evident  the  leaping  child,  the  mother  half  stooping 
to  lift  him,  John  the  Baptist  pressing  forward  and 
Elizabeth  gently  restraining  him,  with  the  two  fly- 
ing, radiant  angels. 

The  power  which  a  great  painting  has  over  us 
often  makes  us  ask,  How  did  the  painter  do  this  ? 
did  he  think  of  everything  beforehand  ?  did  he 
paint  the  picture  bit  by  bit,  or  did  he  rapidly  sketch 
it  all  as  he  meant  to  have  it,  and  then  at  leisure  fill 
in  the  parts,  and  add  this  or  that  ? 

We  know  something  of  how  painters  work,  and 
of  the  labor  which  they  sometimes  put  into  their 
pictures,  rubbing  out  and  painting  over.  A  great 
master  like  Raphael  always  gives  a  sense  of  ease  to 
his  work,  as  though  it  cost  him  nothing.  But  we 
know  also  that  he  took  the  greatest  pains  as  he  took 
the  sfreatest  delio-ht  in  his  work. 

It  happens  that  there  exist  drawings  made  by 
Raphael  when  he  was  preparing  to  paint  this  very 
picture,  and  it  is  interesting  to  see  how  he  went  to 
work.  He  has  a  young  woman  in  his  studio  take 
just  the  attitude  which  a  mother  would  take  who 
was  about  to  lift  her  child.  That  he  may  be  sure 
to  draw  the  form  correctly,  he  has  her  dress  not  fall 
below  her  knee,  and  she  has  bare  arms.  In  this  way 
he  will  know  just  how  the  arm   and   the   knee  will 


42  RAPHAEL 

bend,  and  how  the  muscles  will  show.  Then  he 
makes  another  drawing  with  the  dress  falling  to  the 
ground,  but  with  the  arm  bare.  Finally  he  draws 
the  arm  with  the  sleeve  over  it. 

It  was  by  such  studies  that  he  made  sure  of  draw- 
ing correctly.  They  are  like  exercises  in  grammar. 
But  when  he  came  to  paint  his  jDicture,  he  had  not 
to  think  much  about  the  correctness  of  his  drawing ; 
his  whole  mind  was  intent  upon  making  his  peasant 
girl  look  as  he  imagined  the  Virgin  Mary  to  look. 


VIII 

ST.    CATHERINE    OF    ALEXANDRIA 

This  is  the  lesfend  of  St.  Catherine. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  King  Costis  and  his  wife 
Sabinella,  who  was  herself  the  daughter  of  the  king 
of  Egypt.  When  she  came  into  the  world,  a  glory 
of  light  was  seen  to  play  around  her  head,  and  when 
she  was  yet  a  little  child,  she  gave  such  signs  of 
wisdom  that  she  was  a  wonder  to  all  about  the  court 
of  Egypt.  When  she  was  no  more  than  fourteen 
years  old,  she  was  a  marvel  of  learning.  She  could 
have  answered  all  the  hard  questions  the  Queen  of 
Sheba  asked  Solomon,  and  she  knew  her  Plato  by 
heart. 

At  this  time  her  father  died,  and  so  Catherine 
became  queen  ;  but  this  did  not  change  her  way  of 
living.  She  read  her  books  and  shut  herself  up  in 
the  palace  to  study.  Now  this  did  not  please  her 
nobles,  and  they  besought  her  to  take  a  husband 
who  should  help  her  rule  the  people,  and  who  should 
lead  them  in  war.     At  this  the  girl  asked  them  :  — 

"  What  manner  of  man  is  this  that  I  must  mar- 
ry ?  "     And  one  of  the  nobles  made  answer  :  — 

"  Madam,  you  are  our  sovereign  lady  and  queen, 
and  all  the  world  knows  that  you  have  four  notable 
gifts.     Eirst,  you  are  come  of  the  most  noble  blood 


44  RAPHAEL 

in  the  whole  world ;  second,  you  have  a  great  inher- 
itance in  your  kingdom  ;  third,  you  surpass  all  per- 
sons living  in  knowledge  ;  and  fourth,  you  are  most 
beautiful.  So,  then,  you  must  needs  take  a  husband 
that  you  may  have  an  heir  who  shall  be  the  comfort 
and  joy  cf  your  people." 

"  Is  it  indeed  so  ? "  said  the  young  queen. 
"  Then,  if  God  has  given  me  such  gifts,  I  am  the 
more  bound  to  love  him  and  please  him,  and  set 
small  store  by  my  wisdom  and  beauty  and  riches 
and  birth.  He  that  shall  be  my  husband  must  also 
possess  four  notable  gifts.  He  must  be  of  so  noble 
blood,  that  all  men  shall  worship  him,  and  so  great 
that  I  shall  never  think  I  have  made  him  king ;  so 
rich,  that  he  will  surpass  all  others  in  riches  ;  so 
full  of  beauty,  that  the  angels  of  God  will  desire 
to  behold  him  ;  and  so  benign,  that  he  will  gladly 
forpfive  all  wrong;  done  unto  him.  Find  me  such  an 
one,  and  I  will  make  him  lord  of  my  heart." 

Now  there  was  a  certain  hermit  who  dwelt  in  the 
desert  about  two  days'  journey  from  Alexandria,  and 
the  Virgin  Mary  appeared  to  him  and  bade  him 
go  and  tell  Catherine  to  fear  not,  for  she  should 
have  a  heavenly  bridegroom,  even  her  Son,  who  w^as 
greater  than  any  monarch  of  the  world,  being  him- 
self the  King  of  Glory,  and  the  Lord  of  all  power. 

Until  now  the  young  queen  had  been  a  heathen, 
but  when  the  hermit  showed  her  a  picture  of  the 
Lord  Christ,  she  was  so  filled  with  wonder  and  devo- 
tion that  she  forgot  her  books  and  her  learning  and 
could  think  only  of  him.     And  thus  it  came  about 


Frani  Haofataengl,  Photo. 


ST.    CATHERINE   OF    .ALEXANDRIA 

A'ational  Gallery,  London 


ST.   CATHERINE   OF   ALEXANDRIA  47 

that  she  had  a  strange  dream,  in  which  she  dreamt 
that  she  was  brought  to  the  Lord,  and  he  said,  '"'  She 
is  not  fair  or  beautiful  enough  for  me." 

She  woke  in  tears  and  sent  for  the  hermit,  who 
came  and  taught  her  the  Christian  faith.  She  was 
baptized  and  her  mother  Sabinella  with  her.  Again 
she  had  a  dream,  and  this  time  the  Lord  smiled  on 
her,  and  put  a  ring  on  her  finger. 

So  now  Catherine  despised  still  more  earthly  pomp 
and  riches,  and  being  thus  plighted  to  a  heavenly 
bridegroom,  she  refused  more  steadfastly  all  the 
aittempts  of  her  nobles  to  persuade  her  to  be  married. 
The  good  Sabinella  sustained  her  in  this,  but  at  last 
died,  and  Catherine  was  now  left  alone. 

Then  came  the  great  emperor  Maximin,  who  per' 
secuted  the  Christians.  And  he  came  to  Alexandria 
and  called  the  Christians  together,  and  commanded 
them,  on^  pain  of  torment,  to  worship  the  heathen 
gods.  When  Queen  Catherine  heard  the  uproar, 
she  came  forth  of  the  palace  and  stood  before  Max- 
imin. She  so  used  her  learning,  that  she  silenced 
the  emperor,  and  he  could  make  no  reply. 

Thereupon  he  ordered  fifty  of  his  most  famous 
wise  men  to  dispute  with  her.  But  she  answered 
them  so  convincingly  that  they  themselves  became 
Christians,  and  Maximin  was  in  such  a  rage  that  he 
burned  them  to  death,  yet  they  did  not  flinch. 

Then  did  the  emperor  drag  Catherine  from  her 
palace  and  cast  her  into  a  dungeon.  But  the  faith- 
ful queen  prayed,  and  angels  came  and  ministered 
to  her.     At  the  end    of    twelve  days  the  empress 


48  RAPHAEL 

came  to  visit  her,  and  found  the  dungeon  filled  with 
lio'ht  and  fraorant  with  sweet  odors.  So  she  and 
two  hundred  of  her  attendants  fell  down  at  the  feet 
of  Catherine  and  declared  themselves  Christians. 

When  Maximin  found  what  had  taken  place  he 
was  filled  with  fury,  and  put  to  death  the  empress 
and  all  the  converts.  But  he  was  so  overcome  with 
the  beauty  of  Catherine  that  he  offered  to  make  her 
empress  if  she  would  forsake  Christ. 

When  Catherine  exclaimed  :  "  Shall  I  forsake  my 
glorious  heavenly  bridegroom  to  unite  myself  with 
thee,  who  art  base-born,  wicked,  and  deformed  ? " 
Then  Maximin  bade  his  men  make  four  wheels, 
armed  with  sharp  points  and  blades,  two  turning 
in  one  direction,  two  in  another,  so  that  the  tender 
body  of  the  beautiful  queen  should  be  torn  asunder. 

So  they  bound  her  between  the  wheels,  and  at  the 
same  moment  fire  came  down  from  heaven,  and  the 
destroying  angel  broke  the  wheels  in  pieces,  which 
flew  off  and  killed  the  executioner. 

Then  Maximin,  with  his  heart  of  stone,  com- 
manded that  Catherine  be  carried  outside  the  city, 
and  scourged  and  then  beheaded.  So  it  was  done ; 
but  when  she  was  dead,  angels  bore  her  body  over 
the  desert  and  over  the  Red  Sea,  and  laid  it  away 
on  the  top  of  Mt.  Sinai.  As  for  the  tyrant,  he  was 
slain  in  battle,  and  the  vultures  devoured  him. 

In  our  picture  of  St.  Catherine,  and  in  others  like 
it,  she  is  shown  standing  by  a  wheel.  She  leans  upon 
it  as  if  ready  for  martyrdom,  and  looks  upward  as  if 
she  saw  the  fire  comino;  down  from  heaven. 


IX 

ST.    CECILIA 

The  legend  of  St.  Cecilia  is  not  so  tragic  as  that 
of  St.  Catherine.  According  to  the  story,  Cecilia 
was  a  beautiful  young  girl  who  belonged  to  a  noble 
Roman  family  of  the  third  century. 

Her  parents  were  Christians  in  secret,  and  they 
brought  her  up  in  the  faith.  She  was  a  most  devout 
scholar.  Night  and  day  she  carried  about  with  her 
a  roll  containing  the  Gospel,  hidden  within  her  robe. 
She  excelled  in  music,  and  turned  her  good  gift  to 
the  glory  of  God  ;  for  she  composed  hymns  which 
she  sang  with  such  sweetness,  that  it  was  said  the 
very  angels  descended  from  heaven  to  join  their 
voices  with  hers. 

Not  only  did  she  sing,  but  she  played  also  on  all 
instruments ;  but  she  could  find  none  which  satisfied 
her  desire  to  breathe  forth  the  harmony  which  dwelt 
within  her,  and  so  she  invented  a  new  one,  the  fore- 
runner of  the  organ,  and  she  consecrated  it  to  the 
service  of  God. 

St.  Cecilia  like  St.  Catherine  was  a  martyr,  but 
the  executioner  who  was  to  put  her  to  death  was  so 
affected  by  her  innocence  that  his  hand  trembled, 
and  the  wounds  he  made  did  not  immediately  cause 
her  death.  She  lived  for  three  days,  and  as  the 
Btory  says  :  — 


50  RAPHAEL 

"  She  spent  (these  days)  in  prayers  and  exhorta- 
tions to  the  converts,  distributing  to  the  poor  all  she 
possessed  ;  and  she  called  to  her  St.  Urban,  and  de- 
sired that  her  house,  in  which  she  then  lay  dying, 
should  be  converted  into  a  place  of  worship  for  the 
Christians.  Thus,  full  of  faith  and  charity,  and 
singing  with  her  sweet  voice  praises  and  hymns  to 
the  last  moment,  she  died  at  the  end  of  three  days." 

Very  naturally,  St.  Cecilia  was  taken  as  the  patron 
saint  of  musicians,  and  is  sometimes  represented  as 
seated  at  a  modern  organ.  In  this  picture  she  is 
shown  holding  in  her  hands  an  instrument  of  reeds, 
which  may  be  taken  as  the  beginning  of  the  organ 
of  later  days. 

Her  eyes  are  raised,  and  her  head  is  upturned  as 
she  listens  to  the  choir  of  angels  shown  above  in  the 
clouds,  their  lips  parted  as  they  sing  from  open 
books.  She  holds  the  instrument,  but  she  is  so  in- 
tent on  the  music  she  hears  that  it  seems  almost 
slipping  from  her  hands. 

Indeed,  some  of  the  tubes  are  already  dropping 
out  of  their  place ;  and  as  the  eye  follows  them,  it 
rests  upon  a  number  of  other  musical  instruments 
lying  on  the  ground,  —  the  pipe,  the  violin,  the  tam- 
bourine, castanets,  and  others.  It  is  as  if  we  were 
shown  the  various  instruments  which  she  had  set 
aside  as  not  satisfying  to  her,  and  at  last  were  shown 
her  organ  itself  falling  to  pieces  and  dropping  from 
her  hands.  So  faint  and  imperfect,  the  painter 
seems  to  say,  are  all  these  forms  of  earthly  music 
when  compared  with  the  heavenly. 


Alinari,  Photo. 


ST.    CECILIA 
Bologna  Gallery 


ST.   CECILIA  S3 

St.  Cecilia  is  here  in  a  company  o£  other  saints, 
not  indeed  of  her  day  and  generation,  but  chosen 
by  Raphael  to  give  expression  to  various  ideas  and 
sentiments.  St.  Paul,  the  great  apostle  to  the  Gen- 
tiles, stands  in  a  thoughtful  attitude,  one  hand  car- 
rying a  scroll  and  resting  on  the  hilt  of  a  sword ;  for 
in  one  of  his  epistles,  he  speaks  of  "  the  sword  of 
the  Spirit,  which  is  the  word  of  God."  He  is  listen- 
ing, and  at  the  same  time  looks  down  upon  the  in- 
struments as  if  he  were  thinking  how  his  earthly 
words,  too,  were  dull  beside  the  voice  of  the  Spirit. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  picture  is  Mary  Mag- 
dalen. She  holds  the  pot  of  ointment  with  which 
she  anointed  the  feet  of  Christ,  and  by  the  move- 
ment of  her  feet  she  seems  just  to  have  come  into 
the  scene,  and  looks  out  of  the  picture  as  if  she 
were  bidding  us  and  all  other  spectators  look  on  the 
saint  and  listen  to  the  angels.  Perhaps  the  artist, 
in  choosing  her  for  one  of  his  figures,  was  mindful 
of  the  words  of  the  Lord,  who  praised  her  for  bring- 
ing a  precious  gift,  without  thinking  of  its  worth, 
simply  because  she  loved  him,  and  wished  to  show 
her  devotion.  So  St.  Cecilia  poured  out  her  music, 
the  richest  gift  she  had,  not  thinking  how  she  could 
turn  it  into  money  and  give  it  to  the  poor. 

Next  to  St.  Paul,  behind  him  and  St.  Cecilia, 
stands  the  evano'elist  St.  John.  Painters  and 
scholars  alike  have  always  seen  in  this  figure  the 
beloved  disciple,  the  one  who  leaned  on  the  Lord's 
breast  at  the  last  supper,  and  they  delight  to  show 
him  as  a  young  man  of  refined  and  beautiful  coun- 


54  RAPHAEL 

tenance.  His  hand,  with  the  parted  fingers,  seems 
to  make  a  gesture  bidding  one  listen,  and  his  face 
has  a  look  of  rapture.  It  was  natural  indeed  that 
Raphael  should  thus  have  placed  in  the  company 
one  whose  gospel  is  full  of  feeling,  the  life  of  Christ 
set  to  music  as  it  were. 

Finally,  we  have  St.  Augustine,  one  of  the  Fathers 
of  the  church,  standing  in  his  priestly  robe  and 
holding  a  bishop's  crook.  He  is  apparently  exchang- 
ing glances  with  St.  John.  Perhaps  he  is  designed 
to  show  that  the  church  makes  much  of  music  in  its 
service. 

If  we  could  see  the  painting  itself  with  its  beau- 
tiful color,  we  should  see  even  more  distinctly  not 
only  how  Raphael  thought  out  his  design,  making 
his  figures  all  have  a  harmonious  relation  to  one 
another,  but  how  perfectly  the  composition,  in  its 
lines,  its  light  and  color,  expresses  this  musical  har* 
mony  of  heaven  and  earth. 


f 


X 

THE    TRANSFIGURATION 

The  Transfiguration  is  a  picture  divided  into  two 
parts.  The  lower  part  is  filled  with  more  figures 
than  the  upper  and  contains  more  action.  On  one 
side  are  nine  of  the  disciples  of  Jesus  ;  on  the  other 
is  a  crowd  of  people  in  company  with  a  father  who 
brings  his  son  to  be  healed.  He  gives  an  account 
of  his  boy's  sickness  in  these  words  :  — 

"  He  is  mine  only  child.  And  lo  !  a  spirit  taketh 
him,  and  he  suddenly  crieth  out  ;  and  it  teareth  him 
that  he  foameth  again  ;  and,  bruising  him,  hardly 
departeth  from  him."  ^ 

The  father  calls  upon  the  disciples,  in  the  absence 
of  Jesus,  to  heal  his  son.  In  the  company  with  him, 
we  can  make  out  two  women  kneeling  by  the  boy. 
We  think  it  is  the  mother  who  supports  him,  and 
looks  at  the  disciples  as  she  points  to  her  son.  How 
quiet  and  self-possessed  she  is,  in  contrast  to  the 
poor  fellow's  violence  as  shown  in  his  position,  and 
his  distorted  hands. 

She  is  wholly  devoted  to  him,  and  the  mother 
shows  in  her  face  and  bearing.  But  the  other  kneel- 
ing woman,  who  may  be  his  sister,  carries  a  different 
expression  as   she   points   to   the  boy.     She   looks 

^  Luke,  cliapter  ix.,  verses  38,  39. 


66  RAPHAEL 

toward  the  disciples  with  a  severe  and  scornful  air, 
as  if  saying  :  "  What !  you  profess  to  heal  the  sick, 
and  you  can  do  nothing  for  this  poor  sufferer  !  " 

The  figures  in  the  background  are  crying  aloud 
and  stretching  out  their  arms  for  aid.  One  can 
count  the  persons,  but  it  looks  as  if  there  were  a 
crowd  behind  that  we  do  not  see,  all  pressing  for- 
ward. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  picture  are  the  disciples, 
all  eager,  with  heads  bent  forward,  and  each  gestur- 
ing to  express  his  meaning.  One,  younger  than  the 
others,  with  his  hand  against  )iis  breast,  looks  at  the 
father  with  a  pitying  but  helpless  expression,  as  if 
he  would  gladly  help  him  if  he  only  could.  Another 
has  an  open  book  as  though  he  were  trying  to  find 
some  w^ord  of  comfort.  One  is  pointing  out  the  boy 
to  his  neighbor,  and  two  in  the  background  seem  to 
be  lost  in  perplexity. 

But,  after  all,  though  most  of  the  disciples  are 
thus  intent,  the  eye  quickly  notes  the  action  of  a 
figure  near  the  centre,  full  of  fire  and  energy,  who 
is  pointing  upward,  away  from  the  group,  and  call- 
ing upon  the  father  and  the  women  to  look  that 
w^ay.  And  the  line  of  his  arm  thrust  out  is  con- 
tinued by  that  of  another  disciple  behind  him,  who 
also  points  upward. 

For  these  two  have  seen  the  Lord,  and  they  are 
bidding  the  troubled  parents  look  the  same  way  for 
help.  There,  above  all  this  turmoil  and  confusion, 
is  a  scene  of  dazzling  light,  of  which  they  alone  seem 
to  be  aware. 


Alinari,  Photo. 


THE   TRANSFIGURATION 
Vatican  Gallery,  Rome 


THE   TRANSFIGURATIOX  59 

The  upper  part  o£  the  picture  discloses  the  trans- 
fio-uratioii  of  the  Saviour.  As  the  evang-elist  tells 
us,  he  had  taken  Peter  and  James  and  John  with 
him,  and  had  gone  up  into  a  mountain  to  pray. 

"  And  as  he  prayed,  the  fashion  of  his  counte- 
nance was  altered,  and  his  raiment  Avas  wliite  and 
glistering.  And,  behold,  there  talked  with  him  two 
men,  which  were  Moses  and  Elias,  who  appeared  in 
glory,  and  spake  of  his  decease  which  he  should 
accomplish  at  Jerusalem.  But  Peter  and  they  that 
were  with  him  were  heavy  with  sleep  ;  and  when 
they  were  awake,  they  saw  his  glory,  and  the  two 
men  that  stood  with  him."  ^ 

The  scene  shown  is  at  the  moment  of  the  awaking 
of  the  three  disciples,  one  not  daring  to  look  up 
again,  but  bowing  his  head  and  folding  his  hands 
in  prayer.  They  are  dazzled  with  the  glory.  This 
glory  is  a  cloud  of  brightness  which  envelops  the 
three  figures  of  Christ,  Moses,  and  Elijah,  or  as  the 
Greeks  called  him,  Elias.  The  Saviour  looks  heaven- 
ward with  rapture  in  his  gaze. 

On  one  side  are  seen  two  kneeling  figures.  They 
are  said  to  stand  for  the  father  and  uncle  of  the 
Cardinal  who  ordered  the  picture  from  Raphael. 
It  was  the  fashion  of  the  day  thus  to  introduce  a 
patron  into  a  painting,  and  Raphael  has  made  them 
as  obscure  as  he  well  could. 

We  must  not  look  at  this  great  picture  as  if  it 
vfere  a  panorama,  where  a  succession  of  scenes  is 
witnessed,  or  find  fault  with   it  because  the  Bible 

1  Luke,  chapter  ix.,  verses  29-32. 


60  RAPHAEL 

says  that  the  transfiguration  took  place  on  one  day 
and  the  scene  below  took  place  the  next  day,  when 
Jesus  and  his  disciples  had  come  down  from  the 
mountain.  Nor  is  anything  said  in  the  Bible  which 
would  lead  us  to  suppose  that  Jesus  and  the  prophets 
were  raised  above  the  ground. 

No ;  what  Raphael  intended  was  to  draw  a  con- 
trast between  an  earthly  scene  of  suffering  and  a 
heavenly  scene  of  peace  and  serenity  ;  and  he  took 
two  scenes  which  lie  next  eacli  other  in  the  scripture 
narrative.  That  was  his  thought,  and  see  how 
wonderfully  he  has  expressed  this  contrast  through- 
out ! 

There  is  the  dark  confusion  and  helplessness  and 
grief  below  ;  above  is  a  scene  of  light  which  is  like 
a  vision,  and  this  vision  two  of  the  disciples  see  ; 
and  as  we  have  pointed  out,  a  contrast  is  made  evi- 
dent in  various  parts  of  the  picture.  Indeed,  the 
painting  is  made  up  of  contrasts ;  and  not  the  least 
noticeable  is  that  of  the  solid  mass  below,  square 
shaped,  and  the  light,  pyramid-shaped  composition 
above. 

The  Transfiguration  was  the  last  painting  to  which 
Raphael  set  his  brush,  and  it  was  still  unfinished 
when  he  was  suddenly  stricken  with  fever  and  died. 
As  his  body  lay  in  state,  in  the  hall  where  he  had 
been  working,  this  great  picture  was  hung  at  the 
head,  and  the  people  who  came  in  fell  to  weeping 
when  they  saw  it. 


XI 

PARNASSUS 

Kaphael  was  but  twenty-five  years  old  when  he 
was  bidden  adorn  a  room  in  the  V^atican  palace,  and 
he  made  the  four  walls  answer  to  four  divisions  in 
the  ceiling",  just  as  afterward  in  the  Heliodorus  room. 
The  four  divisions  in  the  ceiling-  were  filled  with 
four  figures,  representing  Theology,  Poetry,  Philo- 
sophy, and  Justice.  Beneath  Poetry  was  this  large, 
full  desion  of  Parnassus. 

Parnassus,  in  the  old  Greek  myth,  was  the  moun- 
tain on  which  the  muses  were  wont  to  meet,  and 
here  Apollo  had  his  chief  seat.  Here,  in  the  fancy 
of  the  ancients,  the  poets  and  historians  and  drama- 
tists came  to  draw  inspiration.  So  Raphael  has 
made  a  great  company  of  gods  and  goddesses,  and 
ancient  and  modern  poets. 

By  means  of  the  accompanying  diagram,  all  the 
figures  in  the  composition  can  be  made  out. 

As  it  is  an  imaginary  scene,  Raphael  was  free  to 
bring  together  poets  of  different  ages  and  countries, 
grouping  them  by  the  natural  association  of  one 
with  another.  In  this  mythic  realm  time  and  space 
are  as  nothing,  and  the  poets  are  united  in  the 
higher  fellowship  of  tlie  inspired  imagination. 

It   is   interesting   to   note    how    the    painter    has 


PARNASSUS  65 

brought  them  together.  Apollo,  of  course,  as  the 
god  of  poetry  and  music,  occupies  the  central  posi- 
tion, seated  beneath  some  laurel  trees,  near  the 
sacred  fountain  of  Hippocrene,  with  the  nine  Muses 
circling  about  him.  Apollo  is  always  spoken  of  as 
playing  the  lyre,  but  Raphael  gives  him  a  violin, 
because  the  action  in  playing  that  instrument  is  so 
graceful.  Some  think  also  he  meant  to  pay  a  com- 
pliment to  a  famous  violinist  of  that  day. 

Calliope,  the  muse  of  epic  poetry,  rests  for  a  mo- 
ment the  long  trumpet  whose  epic  strains  are  wont 
to  stir  the  courage  of  men.  Polymnia,  the  muse  of 
sacred  poetry,  leans  upon  the  lyre  whose  vibrant 
strino's  thrill  the  gentler  emotions  of  faith  and  love. 

Blind  old  Homer  advances  chanting  the  adven- 
tures of  the  Greek  heroes,  and  an  eager  youth  writes 
down  the  verses.  Behind  him  are  Virgil  and  Dante, 
and  Virofil  seems  to  be  callino;  on  Dante  to  listen  to 
Apollo. '' 

Another  group  shows  Pindar,  a  very  aged  figure, 
reciting  his  impassioned  odes  to  Horace  and  another 
poet,  who  listen  with  admiration.  Plautus  and  Ter- 
ence, two  writers  of  Latin  comedy,  walk  together  in 
pleasant  companionship. 

It  was  not  an  easy  matter  to  dispose  of  the  many 
figures  and  groups  in  a  space  cut  into,  as  this  wall 
is,  by  a  window,  but  how  free  and  how  natural  is 
the  arrangement  !  It  was  among  the  first  great 
paintings  which  Raphael  executed  in  the  Vatican, 
and  the  grace  and  harmony  which  mark  his  latei 
works  are  here  shown. 


66  RAPHAEL 

The  picture  is  interesting  also  as  another  illus* 
tration  of  the  great  revival  of  learning  which  tool' 
place  in  Raphael's  day.  The  old  literature  of  Greece 
and  Rome  had  been  rediscovered.  For  centuries 
it  had  lain  like  a  buried  city,  forgotten  under  the 
ignorance  and  the  fighting  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
Now  it  was  brought  to  Hght,  and  the  recovered 
treasure  was  the  common  possession  of  Italy,  not 
indeed  so  much  of  the  plain  people  as  of  the  learned 
men  and  the  artists. 

Raphael,  as  an  artist,  took  delight  in  the  statues 
which  had  been  found,  and  the  other  signs  of  Greek 
and  Roman  art ;  but  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
he  would  know  Homer  and  Virgil  and  Horace  and 
Pindar  and  Sappho  at  first  hand.  He  had,  however, 
friends  among  the  learned  men,  who  could  tell  him 
of  the  treasures  of  classic  literature,  and  his  imagi- 
nation was  quick  to  seize  this  material  and  adapt  it 
to  artistic  purposes. 

Note.  —  The  key  to  Parnassus  on  page  61  is  based  on  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  painting  in  Cav.  E.  G.  Massi's  "  Descrizione  delle  Gallerie 
di  Pittura  nel  Pontificio  Palazzo  Vaticano,"  the  authoritative  guide- 
book to  the  Vatican.  Miss  Eliza  Allen  Starr,  in  her  monograph  on 
the  frescoes  of  the  Camera  della  Segnatura,  called  "The  Three 
Keys,"  identifies  some  of  the  figures  differently,  following  the 
authority  of  Dandolo's  lectures.  The  "  unknown  "  figure  she  calk 
Sordello. 


XII 

SOCRATES    AND    ALCIBIADES 

In  the  same  room  which  holds  Parnassus,  with 
Poetry  above  on  the  ceiling-,  there  is  another  wall 
painting  by  Raphael,  which  commonly  bears  the 
name  of  The  School  of  Athens,  though  that  name 
was  not  originally  applied  to  it.  In  the  ceiling- 
above  is  a  figure  representing  Philosophy,  and  the 
picture  below  carries  out  the  idea  in  its  presentation 
of  an  assembly  of  scholars. 

Just  as  in  Parnassus  Raphael  brought  together 
as  in  a  beautiful  dream  the  g"od  of  poetry,  the  nine 
muses,  and  famous  poets  of  the  ancient  and  what 
was  to  him  the  modern  world,  so,  in  the  School  of 
Athens,  he  has  assembled  a  great  company  of  phi- 
losophers, chiefly  out  of  the  famous  line  of  Greek 
scholars.  In  a  general  way  he  has  divided  the  as- 
sembly into  two  groups,  one  of  men  who  devote 
themselves  to  pure  thought,  the  other  of  those  who 
apply  their  thought  to  science,  like  geometry,  arith- 
metic, astronomy,  and  music. 

There  are  more  than  fifty  figures  in  this  great 
painting.  Raphael  has  made  it  clear  whom  he  meant 
to  represent,  in  many  cases.  They  were  the  philo- 
sophers, whom  his  friends  among  the  cardinals  and 
learned  men  were  so  enthusiastic  about.     But  he  has 


68  RAPHAEL 

also  gathered  about  these  teachers  those  who  might 
be  their  pupils ;  they  are  in  many  cases  young 
Italians  of  his  own  day  ;  indeed,  he  has  even  pic- 
tured himself  coming  in  with  a  fellow  artist. 

What  interested  him  was  to  paint  a  great  number 
of  persons  who  should  show  by  their  faces  and  their 
attitudes  that  they  were  busy,  in  an  animated  way, 
over  what  was  worth  thinking  about.  He  placed 
them  in  a  noble  hall,  with  a  domed  recess  at  the  end, 
such  as  a  great  architect  of  his  day  might  have  built. 
He  showed  a  noble  colonnade  of  pillars,  and  he 
placed  in  niches  statues  of  the  old  Greek  gods  like 
Apollo  and  Minerva,  who  would  be  supposed  to  take 
an  interest  in  what  was  going  on. 

The  picture  is  so  large  and  has  so  many  figures 
that  it  would  not  be  easy  to  reproduce  it  here,  and 
give  a  good  idea  of  its  various  parts ;  so  a  portion 
only  is  shown,  depicting  what  is  commonly  known 
as  the  group  of  Socrates  and  Alcibiades.  Socrates 
can  surely  be  distinguished,  for  he  had  a  singular 
face  and  head.  Some  have  thought  the  companion 
was  not  Alcibiades,  but  Xenophon. 

It  does  not  2:reatlv  matter.  Each  was  his  com- 
panion  and  pupil,  when  he  was  living.  Xenophon 
wrote  a  narrative  of  his  master's  life  and  death. 
Alcibiades  is  often  mentioned  in  the  dialogues  of 
Plato,  who  also  has  preserved  for  us  the  great  say- 
ings of  Socrates.  Two  or  three  men  stand  about, 
Hstening  to  a  discussion  which  Socrates  is  having 
with  his  companion. 

The  chief  interest  centres  in  Socrates,  who  seems 


—I    ^ 
u  =< 


SOCRATES    AND    ALCIBIADES  71 

to  be  explaining  his  principles,  telling  them  off,  one 
by  one,  on  his  fingers.  In  the  old  accounts  which 
we  have  of  this  philosopher,  he  is  shown  to  have 
been  a  man  who  had  thought  deeply  about  the  most 
important  things,  but  used  the  plainest,  most  homely 
speech  when  he  was  trying  to  make  his  meaning 
clear.  His  plain  face  and  eccentric  figure  were  a 
familiar  sight  in  the  market  places,  where  he  used 
to  linger,  drawing  young  men  into  conversation,  by 
which  he  tried  to  show  them  the  better  things  of  life 

Alcibiades  was,  as  Socrates  acknowledged,  "  the 
fairest  and  tallest  of  the  citizens  ; "  he  w\as  also 
"  among  the  noblest  of  them,"  and  the  nephew  of 
the  powerful  Athenian,  Pericles.  Moreover,  he  was 
rich,  though  this  was  a  smaller  matter.  All  these 
things,  however,  had  lifted  Alcibiades  up ;  and  with 
the  vanity  of  youth,  he  was  ambitious  for  a  great 
oratorical  career,  without  having  in  reality  any  suf- 
ficient preparation.  It  is  at  this  juncture  that  he 
falls  in  with  Socrates,  who  begins  to  question  him 
kindly  about  his  plans.  The  young  man  confesses 
his  ambitions,  and  the  philosopher  innocently  asks 
him  where  and  how  he  has  made  his  preparatory 
studies.  Alcibiades  seems  to  think  that  the  ordinary 
subjects  of  oratory,  such  as  questions  of  war  and 
peace,  justice  and  injustice,  need  no  special  know- 
ledge but  that  learned  of  the  people. 

"  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  a  high  opinion  of  your 
teachers,"  says  the  shrewd  old  philosopher ;  "you 
know  that  knowledge  is  the  first  qualification  of  any 
teacher  ?  " 


72  RAPHAEL 

Alcihiades.     Certainly. 

Socrates.  And  if  they  know,  they  must  agree 
together  and  not  ditt'er  ? 

Alcib  lades.     Yes. 

Socrates.  And  would  you  say  that  they  knew  the 
things  about  which  they  dilt'er  ? 

Alcihiades.     No. 

Socrates.     Then  how  can  they  teach  them  ? 

Alcihiades.     They  cannot.^ 

So  little  by  little,  as  one  question  follows  another, 
Alcihiades  comes  to  see  tliat  the  popular  knowledge 
upon  which  he  depends  is  a  very  weak  and  variable 
thing.  He  confesses  at  last  his  own  folly,  and 
declares  his  resolution  to  devote  himself  to  thought- 
ful study. 

1  From  Plato's  dialogue,  Alcihiades,  Jowett's  translation. 


XIII 

THE    FLIGHT    OF    ^NEA.S 

In  the  series  of  rooms  in  the  Vatican  palace,  of 
which  one  contains  Parnassus,  and  another  the  Ex» 
pulsion  of  Heliodorus  and  the  Liheration  of  Peter, 
there  is  a  room,  the  first  of  the  series,  which  is 
called  the  Room  of  the  Great  Fire,  because  it  con- 
tains a  large  picture  of  the  Conflagration  in  the 
Borgo. 

The  Borgo  is  that  quarter  of  Rome  where  the 
Vatican  stands,  and  in  the  ninth  century  there  was, 
one  day,  a  great  fire  there.  It  was  said  that  the 
fire  was  put  out  by  the  Pope  of  that  time,  Leo  IV., 
who  stood  in  a  portico  connected  with  the  church  of 
St.  Peter,  and  made  the  sign  of  the  cross. 

Raphael  was  bidden  make  a  painting  upon  one 
wall  of  the  room,  which  should  represent  the  scene, 
and  in  his  characteristic  fashion  he  made  it  to  be  not 
merely  a  copy  of  what  he  might  suppose  the  scene 
to  have  been  ;  he  introduced  a  poetic  element,  which 
at  once  made  the  piece  a  work  of  great  imagination. 

A  poet,  who  was  describing  such  an  event,  might 
use  an  illustration  from  some  other  o-reat  historic 
fire.  He  miglit  have  said  in  effect  :  "  In  this  burn- 
ing of  the  Borgo,  men  could  liave  been  seen  carry- 
ing the   aged   away  on  their  shoulders,  as  when  iv 


74  RAPHAEL 

ancient  times  Troy  was  burned,  and  ^neas  bore 
his  father  Anchises  away  from  the  falling  timbers." 

This  is  exactly  what  Raphael  did  in  painting.  In 
the  background  of  the  picture  is  seen  Pope  Leo  IV. 
with  his  clergy,  in  the  portico  of  the  old  church 
of  St.  Peter's.  The  Pope's  hand  is  raised,  making 
the  sign  of  the  cross  ;  on  the  steps  of  the  church 
are  the  people  who  have  fled  to  it  for  refuge.  On 
each  side  of  the  fore^'round  are  burnino;  houses. 
Men  are  busy  putting  out  the  fire,  and  women  are 
brino'ino-  them  water.  Other  men  and  women  and 
children  are  escaping  from  the  flames,  and  some  are 
heroically  saving  the  weak  and  helpless. 

It  is  amongst  these  last  that  Raphael  has  placed 
the  group  called  the  Flight  of  ^Eneas.  The  Trojan 
bears  on  his  shoulders  his  father,  the  old,  blind 
Anchises.  Behind  is  Creusa,  the  wife  of  ^neas, 
looking  back  with  terror  upon  the  burning  city,  and 
by  the  side  of  ^neas  is  his  young  son  lulus,  look- 
ing up  into  his  face  with  a  trusting  gaze. 

Some  one  of  Raphael's  friends  had  no  doubt  told 
him  the  story,  or  read  it  to  him  out  of  Virgil's 
iEneid,  which  was  one  of  the  favorite  books  in  that 
day,  when  men  were  delighting  in  the  recovery  of 
the  great  poetry  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Here  is  a 
part  of  the  story  as  told  by  Virgil  in  the  translation 
by  C.  P.  Cranch  :  — 

"  But  when  I  reached  my  old  paternal  home, 
My  father,  whom  I  wished  to  bear  away 
To  the  high  moniitains,  and  who  first  of  all 
I  sought,  refused  to  lengthen  out  his  life, 
And  suffer  exile,  now  that  Troj  was  lost. 


Alinari,  fhoto. 


THE    FLUIHT   OF   ^NEAS 
Va/ican  J\ilact\  Rome 


THE   FLIGHT   OF   .ENEAS  77 

O  ye,'  \iv  said,  '  whose  blood  is  full  of  life. 
Whose  solid  strength  in  youthful  vigor  stands,  — 
Plan  ye  your  Hight  !     But  if  the  heavenly  powers 
Had  destined  nie  to  live,  they  would  have  kept 
For  nie  these  seats.     Enough,  more  than  enough, 
That  one  destruction  I  have  seen,  and  I 
Survive  the  captured  city.     Go  ye  then, 
Bidding  this  frame  farewell  —  thus,  lying  thus 
Extended  on  the  earth  !     I  shall  find  death 
From  some  hand.' 

'  O  father,  dost  thou  think 
That  I  can  go  and  leave  thee  here  alone  ? 
Comes  such  bad  counsel  from  my  father's  lips  ? 
If  't  is  the  pleasure  of  the  gods  that  naught 
From  the  whole  city  should  be  left,  and  this 
Is  thy  determined  thought  and  wish,  to  add 
To  perishing  Troy  thyself  and  all  thy  kin,  — 
The  gate  lies  open  for  that  death  desired.'  " 

So  saying,  ^iieas  calls  for  his  arms,  resolved  to 
remain  with  Father  Anchises  fighting  the  Greeks 
to  the  death.  Thereupon  Creusa  his  wife  begins  to 
weep,  begging  him  not  to  leave  her  and  her  little 
boy  IitIus  to  perish  in  the  flames.  In  the  midst  of 
her  lamentations  a  sacred  omen  is  given,  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  lambent  flames  playing  about  the  head 
of  lulus.  Anchises  is  convinced  of  the  will  of  the 
ffods. 

" '  Now,  now,'  he  cries,  '  for  us  no  more  delay  ! 
I  follow;  and  wherever  ye  may  lead, 
Gods  of  my  country,  I  will  go  !     Guard  ye 
My  family,  my  little  grandson  guard. 
This  augury  is  yours;  and  yours  the  power 
That  watches  Troy.     And  now,  my  son,  I  yield, 
Nor  will  refuse  to  go  along  with  thee.' 
And  now  through  all  the  city  we  can  hear 
The  roaring  flames,  which  nearer  roll  their  heat. 
'Come  then,  dear  fatlier  !     On  my  shoulders  I 


78  KAPHAEL 

Will  bear  thee,  nor  will  think  the  task  severe. 

Whatever  lot  awaits  us,  there  shall  be 

One  danger  and  one  safety  for  us  both. 

Little  lulus  my  companion  be  ; 

And  at  a  distance  let  my  wife  observe 

Our  footsteps.' 

•         •••••••• 

Tliis  said,  a  tawny  lion's  skin 
On  my  broad  shoulders  and  ray  stooping  neck 
I  tlirow,  and  take  my  burden.     At  my  side 
Little  lulus  links  his  hand  in  mine, 
Following  his  father  vvitli  unequal  steps. 
Behind  us  steps  my  wife.     Through  paths  obscur® 
We  wend;  and  I,  who  but  a  moment  since 
Dreaded  no  flying  weapons  of  the  Greeks, 
Nor  dense  battalions  of  the  adverse  hosts, 
Now  start  in  terror  at  each  rustling  breeze. 
And  every  common  sound,  held  in  suspense 
With  equal  fears  for  tliose  attending  me, 
And  for  the  burden  that  I  bore  along." 


XTV 

ST.    MICHAEL    SLAYING    THE    DRAGON 

There  are  many  legends  about  St.  Michael,  who 
is  also  represented  as  the  Archangel^  or  head  of  the 
\7h0le  company  o£  angels,  and  most  of  these  legends 
sj>rmg  from  a  few  passages  in  the  Bible,  chiefly  two. 
One  of  these  is  in  the  Epistle  of  Jude,  the  ninth 
verse,  where  the  archangel  Michael  is  alluded  to  as 
"  ontendinof  with  the  Devil."  The  other  is  in  the 
Book  of  Revelation,  beginning  at  the  seventh  verse 
of  the  ninth  chapter  :  — 

''  And  there  was  w^ar  in  heaven  :  Michael  and  his 
anofels  fouo-ht  asfainst  the  drao-on  ;  and  the  drao-on 
fought ^and  his  angels,  and  prevailed  not;  neither 
was  their  place  found  any  more  in  heaven.  And 
the  great  dragon  was  cast  out,  that  old  serpent  called 
the  Devil,  and  Satan  wdiich  deceiveth  the  whole 
world ;  he  was  cast  out  into  the  eartli,  and  his 
ang-els  were  cast  out  with  him." 

The  Book  of  Revelation  is  full  of  strange  imagery ; 
and  ever  since  it  was  written,  men  learned  and  un- 
learned have  tried  to  turn  its  impassioned  verses 
into  real  historical  scenes,  past  or  to  come.  Above 
all,  this  figure  of  a  dragon,  a  monster  part  man,  part 
brute,  puzzled  people,  and  they  have  all  sorts  of 
explanations  to  make  of  it. 


80  RAPHAEL 

In  our  fairy  tales  we  often  hear  of  hobgoblins 
and  dragons  and  like  fearful  beings,  and  we  think 
of  them  as  make-believe  creatures,  and  sometimes 
are  afraid  of  them,  even  though  if  we  are  questioned 
we  say  we  know  they  do  not  really  exist.  But  in 
Raphael's  day,  dragons  were  by  no  means  unreal 
things  to  people.  Some  thought  they  had  seen 
them,  and  there  were  a  great  many  persons  who  if 
they  had  not  seen  them  themselves  were  sure  others 
had  seen  them. 

In  Raphael's  day  there  were  large  tracts  of  the 
world,  dark  woods,  inaccessible  mountains,  which 
had  hardly  been  explored  at  all,  and  people  fancied 
them  haunted  by  strange  men  and  stranger  animals. 
As  more  and  more  light  is  let  into  the  world,  these 
dark  places  disappear,  and  we  have  come  to  know 
just  what  kinds  of  animals  and  men  there  are  every- 
where. Yet  still,  we  are  not  quite  sure  there  may 
not  be  singular  beasts  lurking  out  of  sight,  like  the 
sea  serpent  for  example. 

Now,  the  dragon  in  early  days  stood  for  what  was 
ugly  and  terrible  and  a  hater  of  good.  The  Greeks 
believed  there  were  dragons,  and  they  had  many 
tales  of  how  Hercules  or  this  or  that  hero  slew  a 
draofon.  To  the  Christian  of  the  Middle  Ages  the 
dragon  stood  at  one  end  of  the  scale,  an  archangel 
at  the  other  ;  for  as  the  dragon  was  all  darkness  and 
hideousness,  the  archangel  was  all  light  and  beauty 
and  gloriousness.  It  thrilled  every  one  to  think  of 
the  angel  of  light  fighting  with  and  overcoming 
the  beast  of  darkness  j  for  every  one  knew  that  sort 


From  oarVoD  print  by  Brauo,  Clement  &  Co, 

ST.    MICHAEL   SLAYING   THE   DRAGON 
The  Louvre,  Paris 


ST.   MICHAEL   SLAYIXG  THE   DRAGON  83 

of  struggle  was  going  on  in  the  world,  even  in  him- 
self. 

Raphael's  picture  gives  a  fine  contrast  between 
the  beautiful,  strong,  young  archangel  and  his  ugly 
foe.  St.  Michael  hovers  in  mid  air  as  li"-ht  and 
graceful  as  a  bird,  while  Satan  squirms  beneath  his 
feel^  a  loathsome  creature  scorched  by  the  flames 
and  sulphurous  fumes,  v/hicli  pour  from  the  clefts 
of  the  rock. 

In  the  artist's  imagination  both  are  spirits,  and  so 
both  are  winged  ;  for  wings,  which  carry  one  through 
the  air,  naturally  are  symliols  of  spiritual  existence. 
But  the  wind's  of  the  archanij-el  are  the  winofs  of 
some  great,  glorious  bird  like  the  eagle,  which  soars 
upward  toward  the  sun  ;  the  wings  of  the  dragon 
are  more  like  the  wings  of  a  bat,  which  flies  only  in 
darkness  and  clinofs  to  the  roofs  of  caves. 

After  all,  the  first  and  last  impression  which  we 
get  from  the  picture  is  the  lightning-like  movement 
of  the  archano-el.  He  darts  at  the  drao-on  as  if  he 
had  come  from  heaven  with  the  swiftness  of  lio-ht, 
his  robe  flying  like  the  wind  away  from  him,  his 
wings  not  spread  in  flight,  but  lifted  in  his  poise, 
and  his  face  bearing  the  serenity  of  an  assured  vic- 
tory as  he  lifts  his  spear  for  its  final  thrust. 

The  great  English  poet  Milton  has  made  use  of 
this  same  subject  in  "  Paradise  Lost."  Here  is  a  por- 
tion of  the  story  in  the  sixth  book,  lines  316-330  :  — ' 

"  TojT'otlior  both,  with  next  to  aliiiiglity  arm 
Uplifted  imminent,  one  stroke  tliey  aimed 
That  might  determine,  and  ^ot  need  repeat 


84  RAPHAEL 

As  not  of  power,  at  once;  nor  odds  appeared 

In  might  or  swift  prevention. 

But  the  sword  of  Michael  from  the  armory  of  God 

Was  given  him,  tempered  so  that  neither  keen 

Nor  solid  might  resist  that  edge:  it  met 

The  sword  of  Satan,  with  steep  force  to  smite 

Descending,  and  in  half  cut  sheer;  nor  stayed 

But  with  swift  wheel  reverse,  deep  entering,  shared 

All  his  right  side. 

Then  Satan  first  knew  pain. 

And  writhed  him  to  and  fro  convolved;  so  sore 

The  griding  sword  with  discontinuous  wound 

Passed  through  him." 


XV 

THE    SISTINE    MADONNA 

As  we  turn  to  the  picture,  famous  the  world  over 
as  the  Sistine  Madonna,  we  seem  to  be  looking 
through  a  window  opening  into  heaven.  Faint  in 
the  background,  yet  filling  the  whole  space,  is  a 
cloud  of  innumerable  cherubs  ;  out  of  this  cloud, 
and  enveloped  by  it,  appear  the  Mother  and  Child. 

They  are  taking  their  way  seemingly  from  heaven 
to  earth.  A  curtain  has  been  drawn  aside  that  Ave 
may  see  them,  and  two  figures  are  on  either  side,  as 
if  to  await  their  passing,  one  gazing  into  their  faces 
while  he  points  outw^ard,  the  other  also  kneeling  in 
devotion  yet  looking  intently  down.  The  mother's 
robes  are  blown  back  by  the  wind  as  she  moves 
steadily  forward. 

Underneath  is  a  parapet,  as  if  this  were  indeed  a 
window,  and  two  beautiful  boy-angels  lean  upon  it, 
adoration  on  their  faces  and  rest  in  their  position, 
as  if  they  Avere  everlastingly  praising,  and  were  the 
very  embodiments  of  cheerful  innocence. 

It  is  worth  while  to  look  at  this  picture  for  a  mo- 
ment, without  thinking  of  its  meaning,  and  indeed 
without  paying  much  attention  to  the  beauty  of  the 
figures,  just  to  see  how  this  great  painter  has  man- 
aged the  lines  and  masses  of  the  work.     In  art,  lines 


86  RAPHAEL 

and  masses  and  color  are  not  unlike  what  words  and 
sentences  and  what  we  call  style  are  in  literature. 
Even  if  a  writer  has  good  and  beautiful  ideas,  much 
of  the  pleasure  we  might  derive  is  lost  when  the 
words  are  ill  chosen,  the  sentences  are  bungling, 
perhaps  even  ungrammatical,  and  the  whole  expres- 
sion is  commonplace  or  confusing. 

We  cannot  get  any  notion  of  Raphael's  color  from 
our  little  print,  but  it  is  not  difficult  to  trace  the 
lines  and  to  see  somethino-  of  the  effect  of  the 
masses,  and  of  light  and  shade.  The  shape  of  the 
whole  is  a  combination  of  pyramids.  When  you  see 
the  great  base  of  a  pyramid  and  observe  how  the 
sides  taper  upward,  you  are  aware  that  nothing  could 
stand  more  securely  and  at  the  same  time  suggest 
lightness,  by  the  rising  and  receding  of  the  sides. 

Now  here  you  see  that  lines  drawn  from  the 
shoulders  of  the  two  attendant  figures  would  meet 
at  the  Virgin's  head,  as  at  the  apex  of  a  pyramid. 
The  curtains  even  help  this  effect,  by  being  drawn 
aside  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  these  lines  more 
evident. 

In  the  lower  half  of  the  picture  the  lines  in  the 
draperies  of  the  kneeling  saints  taper  to  an  imagi- 
nary point  between  the  heads  of  the  cherubs,  forming 
a  second  inverted  pyramid  or  triangle.  Thus  the 
composition  is  inclosed  in  a  harmonious  figure  whose 
outlines  suo-o-est  what  we  call  a  diamond. 

Perhaps  one  reason  why  a  triangular  arrangement 
satisfies  the  eye,  lies  in  the  simple  fact  that  the  most 
important  and  yet  familiar  object  in  nature  is  thus 


Franz  llanfptaenpl,  Phota 


SISTINE   MADONNA 
Drcsdoi  Galh-ry 


THE   SISTIXE   MADONNA  89 

arranged.  Thus  in  this  picture,  the  three  principal 
persons  form  the  upper  triangle,  and  the  body  of 
each  person  repeats  the  figure,  —  that  is,  the  head 
rises  from  the  shoulders  in  such  a  way  that  the  lines 
inclosing  them  produce  a  triangle.  Further,  in  each 
face,  the  line  formed  by  the  eyes  is  connected  by 
two  imajxinarv  lines  meetino-  at  the  mouth. 

In  the  picture  the  central  figure  illustrates  this 
very  noticeably.  The  arm  of  the  Virgin  forms  by 
its  position,  along  with  the  body  of  the  child,  a  base, 
from  which  two  other  lines  rise,  tapering  to  the  top 
of  the  head  ;  the  child's  head  lies  right  in  the  course 
of  one  of  these  lines.  Thus  mother  and  child  to- 
gether form  a  single  figure,  the  two  united  in  one. 

But  when  we  have  studied  this  simple  principle 
of  composition,  we  go  back  with  delight  to  the  pic- 
ture itself  for  what  it  tells  us  :  the  deep  mystery  of 
the  mother's  face,  as  if  she  were  lifted  above  the 
ordinary  plane  of  human  life  ;  the  blended  loveli- 
ness of  childhood  with  the  consciousness  of  a  holy 
calling  ;  the  lowly  devotion  yet  dignity  of  St.  Bar- 
bara ;  the  grandeur  and  forgetf ulness  of  self  of  the 
Pope,  whose  triple  crown  rests  on  the  parapet  ;  the 
perpetual  cliildhood  of  the  angelic  figures. 

The  picture  takes  its  name  from  the  Pope,  who 
had  been  canonized  as  St.  Sixtus.  It  was  painted 
for  the  convent  of  St.  Sixtus  at  Piacenza,  but  early 
in  the  eighteenth  century  it  was  bought  by  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  and  now  hangs  in  the  gallery  at 
Dresden.  It  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  know  that  when 
Frederick  the  Great  bombarded  Dresden,  he  ordered 


90  RAPHAEL 

his  cannon  to  keej)  clear  of  the  Picture  Gallery. 
Napoleon,  too,  though  he  took  many  pictures  to 
Paris,  did  not  take  any  from  the  Dresden  gallery. 

When  we  compare  the  Sistine  Madonna  with  the 
Madonna  of  the  Chair,  we  see  what  a  Avide  variety 
of  pictures  there  may  be  on  the  single  subject  of 
the  Mother  and  Child.  The  Madonna  of  the  Chair 
is,  as  we  have  said,  a  home  scene,  like  a  picture  from 
real  life.  The  Sistine  Madonna  is  a  vision ;  the 
figures  are  lifted  above  the  actual  surroundings  of 
earth  into  a  purely  ideal  and  heavenly  atmosphere. 
In  the  Madonna  of  the  Chair,  the  Mother  and  Child 
are  all  in  all  to  each  other,  and  what  attracts  us 
most  in  the  picture  is  the  mother's  love.  In  the 
other  picture  both  mother  and  boy  seem  to  forget 
themselves  in  the  thought  of  some  glorious  service 
to  others. 


XVI 

PORTRAIT    OF    RAPHAEL 

We  have  been  looking  at  fifteen  pictures  designed 
by  Raphael.  They  are  but  a  few  of  the  great  num- 
ber jjainted  either  wholly  or  in  part  by  the  master, 
or  painted  by  his  pupils  from  designs  and  sketches 
made  by  him.  He  was  thirty-seven  years  old  when 
he  died,  and  it  was  said  that  he  died  on  his  birth- 
day.    His  life  was  brimful  of  activity  as  a  painter. 

The  portrait  which  stands  at  the  beginning  of 
this  little  book  was  painted  by  himself  at  the  age  of 
twenty-three,  for  his  mother's  brother,  whom  he  was 
wont  to  call  his  "  second  father."  An  English  poet, 
Samuel  JRogers,  in  his  poem  "  Italy,"  has  these  lines 
which  describe  it  prettily  :  — 

"  His  heavenly  face  a  mirror  of  his  mind. 
His  niincl  a  temple  for  all  lovely  things 
To  flock  to  and  inhabit. " 

One  of  his  contemporaries,  Vasari,  wrote  a  book 
of  "  Lives  of  the  Painters,"  and  thus  he  speaks  of 
Raphael :  "  All  confessed  the  influence  of  his  sweet 
and  gracious  nature,  which  was  so  replete  with  ex- 
cellence, and  so  perfect  in  all  the  charities,  that  not 
only  Avas  he  honored  by  men,  but  even  by  the  very 
animals,  who  would  constantly  follow  his  steps,  and 
always  loved  him." 


92  RAPHAEL 

If  we  think  of  what  was  happening  to  Raphael  in 
the  year  1506,  w^hen  he  painted  this  portrait,  perhaps 
we  shall  read  more  truthfully  the  expression  in  his 
face.  Seven  years  before  he  had  entered  the  studio 
of  Perugino,  and  had  begun  to  learn  from  that 
master  and  to  show  something  of  his  own  power. 
Two  years  before  he  had  made  his  first  visit  to 
Florence,  and  there  he  saw  some  of  the  great  pictures 
by  Leonardo  da  Vinci  and  Michael  Angelo,  and  had 
a  new  conception  of  what  art  could  do. 

He  had  already  shown  the  effect  upon  him  in 
some  of  his  greatest  Madonnas,  and  he  stood  now 
on  the  threshold  o£  a  oreat  career.  New  ambitions 
awoke  within  him  ;  new  ideals  flashed  upon  his  inner 
vision.  Modest  and  gentle  though  he  w^as,  he  felt 
a  growing  consciousness  of  his  own  power. 

So  he  holds  his  head  high  ;  not  haughtily,  but 
with  a  dignified  self-confidence.  His  eyes  seem  to 
see  the  visions  of  which  he  dreams ;  his  mouth  is 
half  parted  as  if  in  expectancy.  Happy  and  lovable, 
there  is  a  sweet  thouo-litfulness  in  his  air  which  o-ives 
promise  of  his  wonderful  performance. 


I 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY  OF  PROPER  NAMES 
AND   FOREIGN  WORDS. 

The  Diacritical  Marks  given  are  those  fouud  iu  tlie  latest  eUitiou  of  Webster's  Inter 
aatioual  Dictiouary. 


EXPLANATION   OF   DIACRITICAL   MARKS. 

A  Dash  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  long  sound,  as  in  fate,  eve,  time,  note,  use. 

A  Curve  (' )  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  short  sound,  as  in  Sdd,  6nd,  TU,  6dd,  up. 

A  Dot  ( * )  above  tlie  vowel  a  denotes  the  obscure  sound  of  a  in  past,  abate,  Aui6ric£ 

A  Double  Dot  (")  above  tlie  vowel  a  denotes  the  broad  sound  of  a  in  liither,  alms. 

A  Double  Dot  (  __  )  below  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  sound  of  a  in  ball. 

A  Wave  (*■)  above  the  vowel  e  denotes  the  sound  of  e  in  her. 

A  Circumflex  Accent  (" )  above  the  vowel  o  denotes  the  sound  of  o  in  born. 

e  sounds  like  e  in  depSnd. 

6  sounds  like  0  in  propose. 

^  sounds  like  S. 

■c  soun  Is  like  k. 

§  sounds  like  z. 

g  is  hard  as  in  get. 

g  is  soft  as  in  gem. 


Aeneas  (6  nee'iis). 

.XlQibi'iidez. 

Anchise.s  (an  ki'seez). 

Apocrypha  fft  pok'ri  fa). 

Apol'lij. 

Arras'. 

AiigiLstine  (a'gus  teen). 

Biir'nab.us. 

•eillli'ope, 

€os'tIs. 
Creu'sA.. 

D.an'te. 

Eli'a-s. 
Elijah. 

cal'Tlee. 
6Sn'ies'aret. 
fien'  riles. 


(la  o  nai'tlo  di. 


Heliodo'rus. 
Hgr'^Qlej. 
Herod. 
Hlppot-re  u6. 

Iu  lus. 

Josephus  (jo  see'ras). 

Leonardo  da   Vinci 

vin'chee). 
Lofjgia  (lodj;i^. 
Louvre  (l("»)'vr). 
Lycaonia  (Ilk  a  o'liT 
Lys'tra. 


Maccabees  (niilk'a  beez). 

Mridiinie'. 

Mafj^'dalen. 

M.ain're. 

Max  iiiiln. 

Melehisedec  (niel  klz'e  dek). 


94 


RAPHAEL 


M6r€u'rius. 
Mingr'va. 

Dni'as, 

Parnas'sus. 

Per  i<:les. 

Pei-ugiiio  (pii  roi)  jee'no). 

Piacenza  (pe  a  cheu'dza), 

Piii'dar. 

Pla'to. 

Plautus  (pla'tus). 

Polym'nia. 

Raphael  (ra'fa  el). 

Sabinel'la. 
Sappho  (saf  io). 


She'bii. 

fSiy^iiora  (seen  yo'ra). 
Sinai  (sini). 
iSistine  (sis'teen). 
So-e' rates. 
Sod  om. 

Stanza    d'EUodoro     (stau'dza   da  1* 
o  do  ro), 

Ur'ban. 

Urbino  (obr  bee'no). 

Vasari  (va  sa'ree). 
Vat'T-ean. 

Xenoi)hon  (zen'6  foiffi' 

Zeb'gdeg. 


c 


CORREGGIO 
1^91-1534 


i  rum  a  photograph  of  llie  ori^ma.!  painting. 


Jutin  Aiiklruw  k  boo,  iJK* 


A  SUPPOSED  PORTRAIT  OF  CORREGGIO 
Paitna  Gallc7-v 


I 

THE    HOLY    NIGHT   (lA    NOTTE) 
(Detail) 

In  the  northern  part  of  Italy  is  the  little  town  of 
Corregg'io,  which  gave  its  name  to  the  painter  whose 
works  we  are  to  study.  His  real  name  was  An- 
tonio Allegri,  but  in  the  sixteenth  century  a  man 
would  often  be  called  by  a  nickname  referrino-  to 
some  peculiarity,  or  to  his  birthplace.  When  Allegri 
went  to  Parma  he  was  known  as  Antonio  da  Cor- 
reggio,  that  is,  Antonio  from  Correggio,  and  the 
name  was  then  shortened  to  Correggio. 

A  large  part  of  Correggio's  work  was  mural  deco- 
ration, painted  on  the  surface  of  the  plastered  wall. 
Besides  such  frescoes  he  painted  many  separate  pic- 
tures, mostly  of  sacred  subjects  to  be  hung  over 
the  altars  of  churches.  The  choice  of  subjects  was 
much  more  limited  in  his  day  than  now,  and,  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  mythological  paintings,  all 
Correggio's  themes  were  religious.  The  subject 
most  often  called  for  was  that  of  the  Madonna  and 
Child.  Madonna  is  the  word,  meaning  literally  My 
Lady,  used  by  the  Italians  when  speaking  of  Mary, 
the  mother  of  Jesus.  The  Madonna  and  Child  is 
then  a  picture  of  the  mother  Mary  holding  the 
Christ-child. 


2  CORREGGIO 

Our  illustration  is  from  such  a  picture  called  "  La 
Notte,"  the  Italian  for  The  Night.  The  night  meant 
by  the  title  is  that  on  which  Jesus  was  born  in  Beth- 
lehem of  Judaea.  It  was  at  a  time  known  in  history 
as  the  Augustan  Age,  when  Rome  was  the  great 
world-power.  Judsea  was  only  an  obscure  province 
of  the  vast  Roman  Empire,  but  here  was  the  origin  of 
the  influence  which  was  to  shape  later  history.  The 
comino^  of  Jesus  brouoht  a  new  force  into  the  world. 

The  story  of  his  infancy  has  been  made  familiar 
by  the  four  Evangelists.  He  was  born  in  surround- 
ings which,  in  Roman  eyes,  were  fit  only  for  slaves. 
Mary  and  Joseph  had  come  up  from  their  own  home 
to  Bethlehem  to  pay  the  taxes  exacted  at  Rome. 
The  town  was  full  of  people  on  the  same  errand, 
and  "  there  was  no  room  for  them  in  the  inn."  So 
it  came  about  that  the  new-born  babe  was  wrapped 
in  swaddlino-  clothes  and  laid  in  a  mang'er  used  for 
feeding  cattle. 

While  he  lay  in  this  strange  cradle  his  birth  was 
made  known  by  a  vision  of  angels  to  some  shep- 
herds on  the  neighboring  hillsides.  At  once  they 
betook  themselves  joyfully  to  Bethlehem,  the  first  to 
do  honor  to  the  new-born  kingf.  These  homely  visi- 
tors  are  gathered  about  the  manner  in  Corregfo-io's 
picture.  The  dark  night  is  without,  but  a  dazzling 
wdiite  light  shines  from  the  Holy  Child. 

Our  illustration  shows  only  the  centre  of  the  pic- 
ture, where  the  mother  leans  over  her  babe.  The 
little  form  lies  on  a  bundle  of  hay,  completely  en- 
circled by  her  arms.     The  bend  of  her  elbow  makes 


From  oarboQ  priut  bj  Uraun,  Clemeut  &  Co. 


JciliD  Auilrew  ^  tion,  Su. 


THK    HOLY    NIGHT  (DETAIL) 
Dresden  Galloy 


THE   HOLY   NIGHT  5 

a  soft  pillow  for  his  head  ;  her  hands  hold  him  fast 
in  the  snuo-  nest.  With  broodingf  tenderness  she 
regards  the  sleeping  child. 

A  white  cloth  is  wrapped  loosely  about  the  baby's 
body  —  the  swaddling  band,  which,  when  tightly 
drawn,  is  to  hold  the  figure  straight.  The  fingers 
of  one  hand  peep  out  from  the  folds,  and  one  little 
foot  is  free.  For  the  rest  we  see  only  the  downy  top 
of  the  baby's  head  and  one  plump  shoulder.  The 
little  figure  glows  like  an  incandescent  body,  and  the 
mother's  face  is  lighted  as  if  she  were  bending  over 
a  fire.  It  is  a  girlish  face,  for  we  are  told  that  Mary 
was  a  very  young  mother.  The  cares  of  life  have 
not  yet  touched  the  smooth  brow.  In  her  happiness 
she  smiles  fondly  upon  her  new  treasure. 

We  have  no  authentic  description  of  Mary,  the 
mother  of  Jesus,  but  it  is  pleasant  to  try  to  picture 
her  in  imagination.  As  her  character  was  a  model 
of  womanliness,  it  is  natural  to  believe  her  face  cor- 
respondingly  beautiful.  The  old  masters  spent  their 
lives  in  seeking  an  ideal  worthy  of  the  subject,  and 
each  one  conceived  her  according  to  his  own  stand- 
ards of  beauty.  Correggio's  chief  care  was  for  the 
hair  and  hands,  which  he  painted,  as  we  see  here, 
with  exquisite  skill.  He  was  usually  less  interested  in 
the  other  features,  and  the  Madonna  of  our  picture 
is  exceptionally  lovely  among  his  works  of  this  kind. 

The  picture  of  La  Notte  illustrates  very  strikingly 
an  artistic  quality  for  which  Correggio  is  famous. 
This  is  chiaroscuro,  or  the  art  of  light  and  shadow, 
—  the  art  by  which   the  objects   and  figures  of  a 


6  CORREGGIO 

picture  are  made  to  seem  enveloped  in  light  and 
air,  as  in  the  actual  world.  The  contrast  between 
the  bright  lioht  in  the  centre  and  the  surrounding- 
darkness  gives  vivid  reality  to  the  figures.  There  is 
also  a  symbolic  meaning  in  the  lighting  of  the  pic- 
ture. Christ  is  "the  light  of  the  world;"  hence 
his  form  is  the  source  of  illumination. 

Our  picture  was  originally  called  by  the  simple 
title  of  The  Nativity.  Then  the  Italians,  struck  by 
the  power  with  which  the  effect  of  midnight  was 
produced,  called  it  "  La  Notte,"  The  Night.  When 
it  came  to  a  German  gallery  the  Germans  called  it 
"Die  Heilige  Nacht,"  The  Holy  Night.  An  old 
German  Christmas  carol  interprets  it  so  perfectly 
that  it  seems  as  if  the  author  must  have  known  the 
picture.     These  are  the  verses  :  — 

"  Silent  night !   Holy  Night  ! 
All  is  calm,  all  is  bright 
Round  you,  virgin  mother  and  child; 
Holy  infant,  so  tender  and  mild, 
Sleep  in  heavenly  peace. 
Sleep  in  heavenly  peace. 

"  Silent  Night !  Holy  Night  ! 
Shepherds  quake  at  the  sight. 
Glories  stream  from  Heaven  afar, 
Heavenly  liosts  sing  alleluia. 
Christ  the  Saviour  is  born  ! 
Christ  the  Saviour  is  born  ! 

"  Silent  Night !  Holy  Night  ! 
Son  of  God,  love's  pure  light 
Radiant  beams  from  Thy  holy  face 
With  the  dawn  of  redeeming  grace, 
Jesus,  Lord,  at  thy  birth, 
Jesus,  Lord,  at  thy  birth 


II 

ST.    CATHERINE    READING 

The  story  of  St.  Catherine  is  very  quaintly  told 
in  the  old  leo-end.^  She  was  the  dauo-hter  of  "•  a 
noble  and  prudent  king,"  named  Costus,  "  whc 
reigned  in  Cyprus  at  the  beginning  of  the  third 
century,"  and  "  had  to  his  wife  a  queen  like  to 
himself  in  virtuous  or-overnanee."  Thouo-li  o-ood 
people  according  to  their  light,  they  were  pagans 
and  worshippers  of  idols. 

Even  in  her  babyhood  the  child  Catherine  was 
"  so  fair  of  visage  "  that  all  the  people  rejoiced  at 
her  beauty.  At  seven  years  of  age  she  was  sent  to 
school,  where  "  she  drank  plenteously  of  the  well  of 
wisdom."  Her  father  was  so  delighted  with  her  pre- 
cocity that  he  had  built  a  tower  containing  divers 
chambers  where  she  might  pursue  her  studies.  Seven 
masters  were  engaged  to  teach  her,  the  best  and 
"  wisest  in  conning-  "  that  could  be  found.  So  rapid 
was  their  pupil's  progress  that  she  soon  outstripped 
them  in  knowledge,  and  from  being  her  masters 
they  became  her  disciples. 

When  the  princess  was  fourteen,  her  father  died, 

^  The  life  of  St.  Catherine  is  related  in  the  Golden  Leqend.  See 
Caxton's  translation  in  the  Temple  Classics,  volume  vii.,  page  1.  Mrs. 
Jameson  also  gives  an  outline  of  the  story  in  Sacred  and  Legendary 
Art,  p.  459. 


8  CORREGGIO 

leaving-  her  heir  to  his  kingdom.  A  parUament  was 
convened,  and  the  young  queen  was  crowned  with 
great  solemnity.  Then  arose  a  committee  of  lords 
and  commons,  petitioning  her  to  aUow  them  to  seek 
some  noble  knight  or  prince  to  marry  her  and  defend 
the  kingdom.  Now  Catherine  had  secretly  resolved 
not  to  marry,  but  she  answered  with  a  wisdom  not 
learned  altogether  from  books.  She  agreed  to  marry 
if  they  would  bring  her  a  bridegroom  possessing 
certain  qualifications  which  she  knew  w^re  impos- 
sible to  fulfil.  This  silenced  the  counsellors,  and  she 
continued  to  reign  alone. 

In  the  course  of  time  Queen  Catherine  became  a 
Christian  and  devoted  herself  to  works  of  religion 
and  charity.  Under  her  teaching  many  of  her  people 
were  converted  to  the  faith.  It  was  a  happy  king- 
dom until  the  Emperor  Maxentius  chanced  to  visit  the 
royal  city.  He  was  a  tyrant  who  persecuted  Chris- 
tians. Upon  his  arrival  he  ordered  jDublic  sacrifices 
to  idols,  and  all  who  would  not  join  in  the  heathen 
ceremony  were  slain.  Then  Catherine  went  boldly 
to  meet  the  emperor  and  set  forth  to  him  the  errors 
of  paganism.  Though  confounded  by  her  eloquence 
he  was  not  to  be  convinced  by  the  words  of  a  mere 
woman.  Accordingly  he  summoned  from  divers  pro- 
vinces fifty  masters  "  which  surmounted  all  mortal 
men  in  worldly  wisdom."  They  were  to  hold  a  discus- 
sion with  the  queen  and  put  her  to  confusion.  For  all 
their  arguments,  however,  Catherine  had  an  answer. 
So  complete  was  her  victory  that  the  entire  company 
declared  themselves  Christians.     The  angry  emperor 


Francis  Ellis  and  W.  Uajward,  London,  photo. 

ST.  CATHERINE    READING 
Hampton  Court  Gallery,  London 


John  Andrew  k  Son,  So. 


ST.  CATHERINE   READING  11 

caused  them  all  to  be  burned  and  cast  Catherine  into 
prison. 

Even  here  she  continued  her  good  works,  convert- 
ing the  empress  and  a  prince  who  came  to  visit  her. 
A  new  torment  was  then  devised  for  her.  Iron 
wheels  were  made,  bound  with  sharp  razors,  and  she 
was  placed  between  these  while  they  were  turned  in 
opposite  directions.  "  And  anon  as  this  blessed  vir- 
gin was  set  in  this  torment,  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
brake  the  wheels  by  so  great  force  that  it  slew  four 
thousand  paynims."  Maxentius  then  commanded 
that  she  should  be  beheaded,  and  St.  Catherine 
went  cheerfully  to  her  death. 

Other  virgin  martyrs  may  have  been  as  good  and 
as  beautiful  as  St.  Catherine,  but  none  were  so  wise. 
We  know  her  in  our  picture  by  the  book  she  holds. 
Eager  to  acquire  all  the  treasures  of  knowledge, 
she  fixes  her  eyes  on  the  page,  absorbed  in  her 
occupation.  Already  she  has  read  more  than  half 
the  thick  volume,  smiling  with  quiet  enjoyment  as 
she  reads.  There  is  little  in  the  face  to  suggest  the 
scholar  or  the  bookworm.  Were  this  a  modern  pic- 
ture, we  should  fancy  it  a  young  lady  reading  her 
favorite  poet.  As  it  is,  however,  we  must  believe 
that  the  book  is  some  work  by  Plato  or  another  of 
the  ancient  wa-iters  whom  St.  Catlierine  could  quote 
so  readily.  We  need  not  wonder  that  she  does  not 
knit  her  brow  over  any  difficult  passages.  What 
might  be  hard  for  another  to  grasp  is  perfectly  clear 
to  her  understandlnjT. 

The  beautiful  hair  coiled  over  her  head  is  the  only 


12  CORREGGIO 

coronet  the  princess  wears.  There  is  no  sign  of  her 
royalty,  and  we  may  infer  that  the  picture  represents 
her  in  those  early  days  of  girlhood  before  the  cares 
of  government  were  laid  on  the  young  shoulders. 
As  we  study  the  position  of  the  figure  we  see  that 
the  left  arm  rests  on  the  rim  of  a  wheel,  making  a 
support  for  the  hand  holding  the  book.  The  wheel 
is  the  emblem  most  frequently  associated  with  St. 
Catherine,  as  the  reminder  of  the  tortures  inflicted 
by  Maxentius.  The  palm  branch  caught  in  the 
fingers  of  the  left  hand  is  the  symbol  used  alike  for 
all  the  martyrs.  The  reference  is  to  that  passage  in 
the  book  of  Revelation  which  describes  the  saints 
standing  before  the  throne  "  with  palms  in  their 
hands."  ' 

It  is  pleasant  to  believe  that  Correggio  took  un- 
usual pains  with  this  picture  of  St.  Catherine.  The 
story  of  the  lovely  young  princess  seems  to  have 
appealed  to  his  imagination,  and  he  has  conceived 
an  ideal  figure  for  her  character.  The  exquisite 
oval  of  the  face,  the  delicate  features,  and  the  beau- 
tiful hair  make  this  one  of  the  most  attractive  faces 
in  his  works. 

The  light  falls  over  the  right  shoulder,  casting 
one  side  of  the  face  in  shadow.  The  modulations 
of  light  on  the  chin  and  neck,  and  the  gradation  in 
the  shadow  east  by  the  book  on  the  hand,  show 
Correggio's  mastery  of  chiaroscuro. 

1  Revelation  vii.  9. 


Ill 


THE    MARRIAGE    OF    ST.    CATHERINE 

At  the  time  of  her  coronation,  St.  Catherine 
knew  nothing  of  the  Christian  faith,  but  she  had  set 
for  herself  an  ideal  of  life  she  was  determined  to 
carry  out.  It  was  her  firm  resolve  not  to  marry. 
Her  counsellors  argued  that,  as  she  was  endowed 
with  certain  qualities  above  all  creatures,  she  ought 
to  marry  and  transmit  these  gifts  to  posterity.  The 
attributes  they  enumerated  were,  first,  that  she  came 
of  the  most  noble  blood  in  the  world  ;  second,  that 
she  was  the  richest  living  heiress ;  third,  that  she 
was  the  wisest,  and,  fourth,  the  most  beautiful  of  all 
human  bejngs. 

The  young  queen  replied  that  she  would  marry 
only  one  who  possessed  corresponding  cpialities. 
"  He  must  be,"  she  said,  "  so  noble  that  all  men  shall 
do  him  worship,"  so  rich  that  "  he  pass  all  others  in 
riches,"  so  full  of  beauty  "  that  angels  have  joy 
to  behold  him  :  "  and  finally,  he  must  be  absolutely 
pure  in  character,  "  so  meek  that  he  can  gladly  for- 
give all  offences."  "  If  ye  can  find  such  an  one," 
she  declared,  "  I  will  be  his  wife  Avith  all  mine 
heart,  if  he  will  vouchsafe  to  have  me." 

Of  course  all  agreed  that  there  never  was  and 
never  would  be  a  man  such  as  she  described,  and 


14  CORREGGIO 

the  matter  was  at  an  end.  To  Catherine,  however, 
there  came  a  strange  conviction  that  her  ideal  was 
not  an  impossible  one.  All  her  mind  and  heart  were 
filled  with  the  image  of  the  perfect  husband  she  had 
conceived.  She  continually  mused  how  she  might 
find  him. 

While  she  thought  on  these  things,  an  old  hermit 
came  to  her  one  day  saying  that  he  had  had  a  vision, 
and  had  been  sent  with  the  message  that  her  chosen 
brideofroom  awaited  her.  Catherine  at  once  arose 
and  followed  the  hermit  into  the  desert.  Here  it 
was  revealed  to  her  that  the  perfect  man  she  had 
dreamed  of  was  Jesus,  the  Christ,  and  to  this  hea- 
venly bridegroom  she  was  united  in  mystic  marriage. 
Returning  to  her  palace  she  wore  a  marriage  ring,  as 
the  perpetual  token  of  this  spiritual  union. 

The  story  explains  the  subject  of  our  picture. 
The  Christ-child,  seated  on  his  mother's  knee,  is 
about  to  place  a  ring  on  St.  Catherine's  finger,  while 
St.  Sebastian  looks  on  as  a  wedding  guest.  The 
infant  bridegroom  performs  his  part  with  delight. 
He  holds  the  precious  circlet  between  the  thumb 
and  forefinger  of  his  right  hand,  and  with  his  left 
singles  out  St.  Catherine's  ring  finger.  The  bride's 
hand  rests  on  the  mother's  open  pahn,  held  beneath 
as  a  support. 

All  are  watching  the  child's  motions  intently  ; 
the  mother  with  quiet  pleasure,  St.  Sebastian  with 
boyish  curiosity,  and  St.  Catherine  herself  with  sweet 
seriousness.  Any  comparison  of  the  scene  with  a 
human  marriage  is   set  aside   by  the  fact  that  the 


From  carbon  print  by  Braun,  Clement  i;  Co. 

THE    MARRIAGE  OF    ST.  CATHERINE 
The  Louvre,  Faris 


JuLu  Andrew  d£  Soo,  So 


THE  MARRIAGE  OF  ST.  CATHERINE      17 

bridegroom  is  an  infant.  The  ceremony  is  of  purely 
spiritual  significance,  a  true  sacrament.  St.  Cather- 
ine's expression  and  manner  are  full  of  humility,  as 
in  a  religious  service. 

The  Christ-child  is  a  robust  little  fellow  whose 
chief  beauty  is  his  curls.  He  has  the  large  head 
which  usually  shows  an  active  temperament,  and  we 
fancy  that  he  is  somewhat  masterful  in  his  ways. 
We  shall  see  the  same  boy  again  in  the  picture 
called  The  Madonna  of  St.  Jerome. 

The  mother,  too,  has  a  face  wdiich  soon  becomes 
familiar  to  the  student  of  Correggio's  works.  The 
eyes  are  full,  the  nose  is  rather  prominent,  the  mouth 
large  and  smiling,  and  the  chin  small.  Even  St. 
Catherine  is  of  the  same  type,  except  that  her  face 
is  cast  in  a  smaller  and  more  delicate  mould.  Her 
hair  is  arranged  precisely  like  that  of  the  Madonna, 
the  braids  bound  about  the  head,  preserving  the 
pretty  ^ound  contour.  Both  women  wear  dresses 
cut  with  round  low^  necks,  showing  their  full  throats. 
St.  Catherine's  left  hand  rests  ujion  a  wheel  with 
spiked  rim,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  is  her  usual  em- 
blem. Another  emblem  is  the  sword,  whose  hilt 
projects  from  behind  the  wheel.  This  was  the  in- 
strument of  her  execution. 

Special  prominence  is  given  in  the  picture  to  three 
sets  of  hands.  The  skill  with  which  they  are  painted 
is  noted  by  critics  as  one  of  the  many  artistic  merits 
of  the  work.  One  of  Browning's  poems '  describes 
an  artist's  meditations  while  tryino-  to  draw  a  hand. 

A,'  17 

^  Beside  the  Drawing  Board. 


18  CORREGGIO 

His  failure  teaches  him  to  reahze  that  he  must 
study  the 

"  Flesh  and  bone  and  nerve  that  make 
The  poorest  coarsest  human  hand 
An  object  worthy  to  be  scanned 
A  whole  life  long  for  their  sole  sake." 

Such  must  have  been  Correggio's  study  to  enable 
him  to  produce  the  beautiful  hands  we  see  here. 

St.  Sebastian  is  a  figure  not  to  be  overlooked. 
We  may  find  his  like  among  the  genii  of  the  Parma 
Cathedral,  Avhicli  we  are  to  study.  He  is  a  joyous 
being  to  whom  it  is  good  merely  to  be  alive.  The 
elfin  locks  falling  about  his  face  make  him  look  like 
some  creature  of  the  woods.  We  are  reminded 
most  of  the  faun  of  the  Greek  mythology.  The 
arrows  in  his  hand  suggest  some  sylvan  sport,  but 
in  reality  they  are  the  emblem  of  his  martyrdom. 
According  to  tradition  the  young  saint  was  bound 
by  his  enemies  to  a  tree,  and  shot  with  arrows. 

Behind  the  group  stretches  a  bit  of  open  country, 
and  if  we  look  closely  we  can  discern  here  two 
groups  of  small  figures.  One  represents  the  martyr- 
dom of  St.  Sebastian,  and  the  other,  the  execution 
of  St.  Catherine.  We  may  suppose  that  such  grue- 
some subjects  wei"e  not  the  choice  of  the  painter. 
It  is  probable  that  they  were  dictated  by  his  patrons, 
and  in  obeying  orders  he  made  the  figures  as  in- 
conspicuous  as  j^ossible. 


IV 


CEILING   DECORATION    IN    THE  SALA  DEL  PERGOLATO 
(hall    of    THE    VINE    TRELLIS) 

(S.  Paolo,  Parma) 

In  the  time  of  Correggio  the  convent  of  S.  Paolo 
(St.  Paul)  in  Parma  was  in  charge  of  the  abbess 
Giovanna  da  Piacenza,  who  had  succeeded  an  aunt 
in  this  office  in  1507.  She  was  a  woman  of  liberal 
opinions,  who  did  not  let  the  duties  of  her  position 
entirely  absorb  her.  She  still  retained  some  social 
connections  and  was  a  patroness  of  art  and  culture. 
The  daughter  of  a  nobleman,  she  was  a  person  of 
consequence,  whose  private  apartments  were  such 
as  a  princess  might  have.  Already  a  well  known 
painter  of  the  day  had  decorated  one  of  her  rooms 
when  she  heard  of  the  rising  artist  Correggio. 
Probably  advised  by  her  relative  the  Cavaliere  Sci- 
pione  Montino,  she  commissioned  the  young  painter 
to  fresco  a  second  room. 

The  decorative  scheme  he  designed  is  very  beau- 
tiful and  elaborate.  The  square  ceiling  is  com- 
pletely covered  with  a  simulated  trellis,  embowered 
in  foliage  and  flowers,  and  pierced  by  oval  windows 
through  which  children  are  seen  at  play.  A  circle 
in  the  centre  contains  the  family  arms  of  the  abbess, 
a  shield  on  which  three  crescent  moons  are  set  diag- 


20  CORREGGIO 

onally.  From  this  centre,  as  from  the  hub  of  a 
wheel,  a  series  of  gilded  ribs  radiate  towards  the 
sides,  cutting  the  whole  space  into  triangular  sec- 
tions whose  surfaces  are  slightly  hollowed.  The 
oval  windows  of  the  trellis  open  in  these  sections, 
one  in  each  triangle,  and  sixteen  in  all.  Above 
every  window  hangs  a  bunch  of  fruit,  seemingly 
suspended  from  the  centre  by  ribbons  fancifully 
braided  about  the  ribs.  The  outer  edge  of  the 
design,  where  the  ceilmg  joins  the  walls,  is  finished 
by  a  series  of  sixteen  lunettes  or  semicircles  run- 
ning around  the  square,  one  in  each  section.  The 
frieze  around  the  side  walls  simulates  a  narrow  scarf 
caught  up  in  festoons  between  ornamented  capitals 
formed  of  rams'  heads.  The  remaininof  decoration 
of  the  room  is  on  the  cap  of  the  chimney,  and 
represents  the  goddess  Diana  setting  forth  for  the 
chase. 

This  picture  furnishes  the  subject  of  the  chil- 
dren's games  in  the  lattice  bower.  The  little  sprites 
are  attendants  of  the  goddess,  playing  in  a  mimic 
hunt.  Two  or  three  may  be  seen  through  every 
window,  busy  and  happy  in  their  innocent  sport. 
One  is  the  dehghted  possessor  of  a  quiver  of  arrows, 
from  which  he  draws  a  shaft.  Others  play  with 
the  hounds,  pulling  them  hither  and  thither  at  their 
will.  A  group  of  five  find  the  hunting-horn  an 
amusing  plaything,  and  good-humoredly  strive  to- 
gether over  the  treasure. 

Our  illustration  shows  a  quarter  section  of  the 
ceiling,  from   which  we  can  in  imagination  recon* 


Alinari,  photo, 


CEILING  DECORATION   IN  THE  SALA  DEL  PERGOLATO 
Convent  of  S.  Paolo,  ranna 


CEILING   DFXORATION  23 

struct  the  whole  diagram.^  Let  us  see  what  the 
children  are  doino-  in  this  corner  of  the  lattice.  At 
the  window  directly  in  front  of  us  a  little  fellow 
proudly  exhibits  a  stag's  head  as  a  trophy  of  the 
chase.  Just  behind  his  shoulder  a  merry  compan- 
ion peeps  out,  and  lower  down,  on  the  other  side, 
appears  the  head  of  an  animal  like  a  doe.  In  the 
next  window  is  a  boy  with  a  wreath  of  flowers  with 
which  he  and  a  companion  apparently  mean  to 
crown  the  head  of  the  stag.  The  third  boy  of  the 
group  has  for  the  moment  lost  interest  in  the  play, 
his  attention  being  attracted  by  something  going  on 
outside.  Now  comes  a  boy  passing  by  the  next 
window,  who  hastens  to  join  the  party  we  have  just 
seen.  His  playfellow  wants  to  go  the  other  way, 
and  tries  to  detain  him.  "  Come,"  he  says,  seizing 
him  by  the  arm,  "  there  's  no  fun  over  there.  See 
what  I  have  found." 

We  arg  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  know  just  what 
mischief  the  baby  in  the  next  window  has  been 
plotting.  He  grasps  with  both  hands  a  tall  staff, 
which  may  be  a  liunting-spear.  or  perhaps  a  pole 
with  which  he  hopes  to  reach  the  fruit.  In  some 
way  he  has  managed  to  get  both  feet  through  the 
window,  and  is  now  in  a  precarious  position,  half 
in  and  half  out.  His  companion  tries  to  draw  him 
in  ;  but  whether  he  is  alarmed  at  the  danger,  or  is 
himself  eager  to  get  the  pole,  we  cannot  tell. 

The  lunettes  of  the  ceiling  are  painted  in  gray, 

1  A  qup.rter  section,  mathematically  exact,  is  of  course,  square  in 
shape.     In  our  illustration  the  lower  part  of  two  lunettes  is  cut  off. 


24  CORREGGIO 

framed  in  borders  of  sea-shells.  They  are  made  to 
simulate  niches  containing  sculptured  figures  with 
some  allegorical  or  mythological  meaning.  In  our 
illustration  we  see  first  the  figure  of  Chastity,  hold- 
ing in  her  right  hand  the  dove,  which  is  the  emblem 
of  innocence.  The  dress  is  the  long,  plain  tunic 
seen  in  Greek  sculpture,  and  the  thin  stuff  of  which 
it  is  made  flows  in  graceful  lines  about  the  form. 
We  are  reminded  of  Milton's  lines  in  "  Conius  :  "  — 

"  So  dear  to  Heav'n  is  saintly  Chastity, 
That  when  a  soul  is  found  sincerely  so, 
A  thousand  liveried  angels  lacky  her, 
Driving  far  off  each  thing  of  sin  and  guilt, 
And  in  clear  dream  and  solemn  vision. 
Tell  her  of  things  that  no  gross  ear  can  hear." 

The  next  figure  is  similar  in  character  and  mean- 
ing. It  is  Virginity,  holding  in  her  right  hand  the 
lily,  which  is  the  symbol  of  purity.  The  other  two 
figures,  of  which  we  see  only  the  upper  portion, 
are  Fortune,  with  a  cornucopia,  and  the  helmeted 
Athena,  with  spear  and  torch. 

At  the  death  of  the  abbess  Giovanna  in  1574, 
the  convent  of  S.  Paolo  entered  upon  a  period  of 
severe  ecclesiastical  discipline.  For  more  than  two 
centuries  it  was  impossible  for  outsiders  to  gain 
admittance,  and  the  "  Sala  del  Pergolato  "  was  a 
sealed  treasure.  Finally,  in  1794,  the  Academy  of 
Parma  gained  permission  to  examine  Correggio's 
paintings.  After  the  suppression  of  the  convent 
the  room  was  thrown  open  to  the  public,  and  the 
building  is  now  used  for  a  school. 


V 


DIANA 

In  classic  mythology,  Diana,  the  Greek  Artemis, 
was  the  goddess  of  the  moon,  twin  sister  of  the  sun- 
god  Apollo.  As  the  rays  of  moonlight  seem  to 
pierce  the  air  like  arrows,  Diana,  like  Apollo,  was 
said  to  carry  a  quiver  of  darts  ;  the  slender  arc  of 
the  crescent  moon  was  her  bow.  Thence  it  was 
natural  to  consider  her  fond  of  hunting,  and  she 
became  the  special  patroness  of  the  chase  and  other 
sylvan  sports.  Her  favorite  haunts  were  groves  and 
lakes,  and  she  blessed  the  increase  of  field  and 
meadow.  She  was  mistress  of  the  brute  creation, 
and  showed  special  favor  to  the  bear,  the  boar,  the 
dog,  the  goat,  and  the  hind.  The  poet  Wordsworth 
has  described  how  the  ancient  huntsman  regarded 
the  goddess  :  — 

"  The  nightly  hunter  lifting  up  his  eyes 
Tow.ards  the  crescent  moon,  with  grateful  heart 
Called  on  the  lovely  wanderer  who  bestowed 
That  timely  light  to  share  his  joyous  sport  ; 
And  hence  a  beaming  goddess  with  her  nymphs 
Across  the  lawn  and  through  the  darksome  srove 
(Not  unaccompanied  with  tuneful  notes 
By  echo  multiplied  from  rock  or  cave) 
Swept  in  the  storm  of  chase,  as  moon  and  stars 
Glance  rapidly  along  the  clouded  heaven 
When  winds  are  blowing."  ' 

^  In  The  Excursion. 


26  CORREGGIO 

There  were  other  pleasant  beliefs  about  Diana 
such  as  might  be  connected  with  the  thought  of  the 
moon.  As  the  moonlight  cheers  the  traveller  on  his 
way  and  enters  the  chamber  of  the  sick  and  lonely, 
so  Diana  was  said  to  watch  with  the  sick  and  help 
the  unfortunate.  The  pale,  white  light  of  the  moon 
is  a  natural  symbol  of  purity,  hence  Diana  was  a 
maiden  goddess  above  all  allurements  of  love.  Her 
worship  was  conducted  with  splendid  rites  in  vari- 
ous ancient  cities.  The  temple  built  in  her  honor 
at  Ephesus  was  famous  as  one  of  the  seven  wonders 
of  the  world. 

The  ancients  naturally  liked  to  fancy  the  goddess 
very  beautiful.  The  Greek  poet  Anacreon  called 
her  "  the  groddess  of  the  sun  bripfht  hair."  The 
English  Keats,  who  delighted  in  the  old  Greek 
myths,  has  also  described  the  charms  of  "  the  haunter 
chaste  of  river  sides,  and  woods  and  heathy  waste."  ^ 
She  had  "  pearl  round  ears,  white  neck,  orbed  brow, 
blush  tinted  cheeks,"  and  "  a  paradise  of  lips  and 
eyes." 

In  our  picture  the  moon  goddess  is  mounting  her 
car  for  the  nightly  course  across  the  sky.^  Though 
she  seems  to  be  but  just  springing  to  her  place,  with 
bending  knee,  she  is  already  speeding  on  her  way. 

"  How  tremulous-dazzlingly  the  wheels  sweep 
Around  their  axle." 

Her  quiver,  well   filled  with   the   bow  and  arrows, 

'  In  Endymion.  See  also  Lowell's  Endymion  for  a  description  of 
Diana. 

2  As  Apollo  drives  the  sun  chariot  across  the  sky  by  day.  Com- 
pare Guido  Reni's  Aurora. 


Alinari,   photo. 


John  Andrew  4  poq,  ao. 


DIANA 
Convent  of  S.  Pao/o,  Parma 


DIANA  29 

hangs  at  her  back,  held  by  the  strap  bound  over 
her  breast.^  The  crescent  moon  gleams  above  her 
brow.  The  vehicle  is  the  small  two-wheeled  chariot 
used  among  the  Romans,  scarcely  larger  than  a 
chair.  Only  the  hind  legs  of  the  steeds  may  be 
seen,  but  we  fancy  them  to  be  two  white  does. 

The  huntress  turns  her  face  earthward,  lifting  a 
fluttering  veil  high  in  her  left  hand.  It  is  as  if  the 
face  of  the  moon  had  been  hidden  behind  a  cloud 
which  the  goddess  suddenly  draws  aside  and  shows 
"  her  fulgent  head  uncovered,  dazzling  the  behold- 
er's sight."  It  is  with  a  bright,  cheerful  countenance 
that  she  beams  upon  her  worshippers.  A  sense  of 
courage  and  exhilaration  is  expressed  in  her  spirited 
bearing.  With  her  right  hand  she  points  forward, 
as  if  calling  us  to  join  in  the  sport.  In  the  swift- 
ness of  her  motion  her  unbound  hair  and  filmy  gar- 
ments blow  out  behind  her. 

She  is  a  country-bred  maiden,  with  plump  neck 
and  rouTid  arms,  and  her  chief  charm  is  her  buoy- 
ant vitality.  Her  open  face,  with  eyes  set  rather  far 
apart,  is  the  index  of  her  nature.  Her  free  life  in 
the  woods  has  developed  a  well  poised  womanhood. 
Fear  is  unknown  to  her ;  pain  and  disease  come  not 
near  her.  Rejoicing  in  immortal  youth  and  strength, 
she  speeds  nightly  through  the  sky,  the  messenger 
of  liffht  and  comfort. 

As  we  have  seen  in  the  preceding  chapter,  the 
picture  of  Diana  is  painted  in  fresco  on  the  chimney 

^  It  seems  odd  that  with  this   full   quiver  the  subject  should  be 
called  by  some  "  Diana's  Return  from  the  Chase." 


30  CORREGGIO 

cap,  or  hood,  over  the  great  fireplace  in  the  Hall  of 
the  Vine  Trellis.  We  may  well  believe  that  the 
decoration  went  far  towards  furnishing  the  stately 
apartment.  Underneath  runs  the  Latin  inscription, 
"  Ignem  gladlo  nefodias,'''  stir  not  the  fire  wdtli  the 
sword. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  arms  of  the  abbess, 
for  whom  the  room  was  decorated,  bore  the  device 
of  the  crescent  moon.  This  fact  may  have  suggested 
to  Correggio,  or  his  patrons,  the  subject  of  the  moon 
goddess.  Diana,  as  a  virgin  divinity,  was  an  espe- 
cially appropriate  choice  for  the  apartment  of  a  nun. 

The  legends  of  Greek  mythology  were  at  that 
time  very  popular  among  people  of  culture,  having 
been  recently  brought  to  notice  in  the  revival  of 
classic  learning.  In  Italy  they  furnished  themes  for 
the  painter;  in  England,  for  the  poet.  The  Eng- 
lish Ben  Jonson,  living  a  half  a  century  later  than 
Correggio,^  but  representing  in  a  certain  measure  the 
same  love  of  classic  allusion,  wrote  a  "  Hymn  to 
Diana,"  which  might  have  been  inspired  by  this  pic- 
ture. The  first  stanza  may  be  quoted  for  its  inter- 
pretation :  — 

"  Queen  and  huntress,  chaste  and  fair, 
Now  the  sun  is  laid  to  sleep, 
Seated  in  thy  silver  chair, 

State  in  wonted  manner  keep. 
Hesperus  entreats  thy  \\^\\i, 
Goddess  excellently  bright." 

1  That  is,  from  1573  to  1G37. 


VI 

ST.    JOHN    THE    EVANGELIST 

It  seemed  understood  among  the  twelve  disciples 
of  Jesus  that  John  was  the  one  of  their  number  es- 
pecially beloved  by  the  Master.  He  and  his  brother, 
James,  were  the  sons  of  the  fisherman  Zebedee,  and 
all  three  men  earned  their  livino'  in  their  fishino- 
boats  on  the  sea  of  Galilee.  It  was  while  they  were 
busy  with  their  nets  that  Jesus  one  day  called  the 
two  brothers  to  be  fishers  of  men.  "  And  they 
straightway  left  their  nets  and  followed  him."  ^ 

Under  the  teachings  of  Jesus,  John  grew  in  know- 
ledge of  spiritual  things.  He  was  one  of  the  three 
accompanying  their  Master  to  the  Mount  of  Trans- 
figuration, where  they  witnessed  a  sacred  scene  with- 
held from  the  others.  His  nature  was  affectionate 
and  poetic,  and  he  was  a  deep  thinker.  Often  when 
the  meaning  of  Jesus'  words  was  beyond  his  hearers, 
John  treasured  the  sayings  in  his  memory.  On  the 
evening  when  Jesus  sat  at  table  with  his  disciples 
for  the  last  time,  John  was  near  him,  leaning  on  his 
Master's  breast.  When,  cm  the  next  day,  Jesus  hung 
upon  the  cross,  it  was  John  to  whom  he  commended 
his  mother  as  to  a  son.  "  And  from  that  hour  that 
disciple  took  her  unto  his  own  home." 

^  St.  Matthew,  chapter  iv.,  verse  20. 


32  CORREGGIO 

In  the  years  that  followed,  John  pursued  his 
Christian  service  with  the  zeal  of  an  ardent  nature. 
He  remained  awhile  in  Judsea  and,  in  company  with 
Peter,  added  many  converts  to  the  faith.  He  then 
carried  the  work  into  Asia  Minor,  where  he  founded 
seven  churches.  Not  only  was  he  a  preacher  and 
organizer,  but  a  voluminous  writer  as  Avell.  The 
fourth  Gospel  is  beheved  to  be  his  work,  in  which 
he  records  many  words  and  deeds  of  Jesus  over- 
looked by  the  other  Evangelists.  He  was  also  the 
writer  of  the  three  Epistles  which  bear  his  name. 
Finally,  he  is  supposed  to  be  the  author  of  the  book 
of  Revelation,  in  which  he  described  his  visions  dur- 
ing his  exile  in  the  isle  of  Patmos.  According  to 
tradition,  he  lived  to  a  great  age,  and  died  at  Ephesus 
in  Asia  Minor. 

The  love  with  which  Christians  cherish  the  mem- 
ory of  St.  John  is  seen  in  the  number  of  churches 
bearino"  his  name.  One  such  is  that  in  Parma  which 
was  newly  built  at  the  time  when  Correggio  was 
winning  his  first  laurels.  The  most  important  por- 
tions of  the  interior  decorations  were  executed  by 
our  painter. 

Before  considering  the  frescoes  of  the  cupola,  the 
visitor  to  the  church  likes  to  pause  before  the  lunette 
over  the  door  of  the  left  transept.  The  subject  is 
St.  John,  seated  with  his  writing  materials  on  his 
lap.  There  is  a  pile  of  books  behind  him  and  a 
volume  beside  him.  At  his  feet  stands  the  symbohc 
eagle  pluming  his  wing. 

The  emblems  of  the  Evangelists  are  drawn  from 


s 


CO 


5  ^ 

O    l>3 


^ 


lO 


ST.  JOHN   THE   EVANGELIST  35 

Ezekiel's  vision  of  the  "  four  living*  creatures,"  whose 
faces  were  those  of  a  man,  a  lion,  an  ox,  and  an 
eagle.  Applied  respectively  to  the  writers  of  the 
four  Gospels,  each  emblem  suggests  some  character- 
istic trait.  The  eagle  is  especially  appropriate  to 
St.  John.  As  the  bird  soars  into  the  upper  regions 
of  the  sky  and  looks  directly  at  the  sun,  so  St.  John's 
inspiration  raised  him  into  the  highest  realms  of 
thought,  where  he  seemed  to  gaze  directly  upon  the 
divine  glory.  It  is  for  this  that  he  is  called  St. 
John,  "  the  divine."  As  the  Latin  inscription  over 
the  lunette  reads,  "  More  deeply  than  the  others  he 
disclosed  the  mysteries  of  God."  ^ 

In  our  picture  the  Evangelist  lifts  his  eyes  heaven- 
ward as  if  beholding  a  vision.  His  lips  are  parted, 
and  he  has  the  rapt  expression  of  one  absorbed  in 
meditation.  His  right  hand  still  holds  the  pen  as 
he  pauses  for  inspiration. 

In  trying  to  do  honor  to  the  beloved  disciple,  the 
painters  iiave  always  represented  him  as  the  most 
beautiful  of  the  twelve.  As  the  most  Christ-like 
in  character,  he  is  made  to  resemble  the  typical 
fio'ure  of  Christ.  So  in  this  fresco  by  Correffofio, 
he  is  a  beautiful  youth,  with  the  curling  hair,  the 
oval  face  and  the  rea'ular  features  we  associate  with 
the  person  of  Jesus.  Though  the  beardless  face 
is  so  refined,  there  is  nothing  weak  or  effeminate 
about  it.  The  whole  figure  is  indeed  very  manly. 
The  head  is  well  set  on  a  full  throat  and  the  shoulders 
are  broad.     Risino;  to  his  feet  St.  John  would  be  a 

^  '^  Altius  cceteris  Dei  patefecit  arcana.^^ 


36  CORREGGIO 

tall,  athletic  young  man,  capable  of  lending  a  strong 
hand  at  his  father's  fishing-nets.  The  union  of 
strength  and  refinement  makes  the  picture  one  of  the 
most  attractive  ideals  of  St.  John  ever  painted. 

The  keynote  of  St.  John's  Gospel  is  the  love  of 
God  ;  his  ardent  nature  never  wearied  of  the  theme  ; 
the  wonder  in  his  lifted  face  shows  him  still  intent 
upon  the  mystery.  Were  we  to  seek  some  charac- 
teristic utterance  which  should  appropriately  interpret 
his  thoughts,  it  might  well  be  the  words  of  Jesus  to 
NicodemuS;  "  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave 
his  only  begotten  son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in 
him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  ^ 

^  St.  John,  chapter  iii.,  verse  16. 


VII 


ST.    JOHN    AND    J^T.    AUGUSTINE 

The  church  of  S.  Giovanni  Evang-ehsta  (St.  John 
the  Evang-ehst),  in  Parma,  is  built  with  a  dome- 
shaped  cupohx  which  Correg'gio  filled  with  a  fresco 
decoration.  The  subject  is  drawn  from  the  life  of 
the  apostle  whose  name  is  given  to  the  church  :  it  is 
the  vision  of  St.  John  on  the  isle  of  Patmos.  Look- 
ing up  into  the  dome,  one  seems  to  be  looking 
directly  into  the  open  sky,  upon  the  figure  of  Christ 
ascending  into  heaven.  The  apostles  sit  in  a  circle 
on  the  clouds,  and  beneath  them  the  a<>ed  St,  John 
kneels  on  the  mountain  top,  gazing-  upwards  upon 
the  vision.  The  heavenly  spaces  are  alive  Avith 
angels,  fo;:,  as  Browning  writes  :  — 

"  Correggio  loves  to  mass,  in  rifts 
Of  heaven,  his  angel  faces,  orb  on  orb." 

The  little  creatures  are  sporting  among-  the  clouds 
and,  in  the  poet's  phrase,  "  waiting-  to  see  some 
wonder  momently  grow  out." 

Where  the  dome  rests  upon  the  four  arches  which 
support  it,  are  four  triangular  corner-pieces  called 
pendentives,  which  also  belong-  to  Correggio's  deco- 
rative plan.  They  are  devoted  respectively  to  the 
figures  of  the  four  Evangelists,  each  one  accompanied 
by  one  of  the   four  Fathers  of  the  Church.     The 


38  CORREGGIO 

Christian  Fathers  were  the  men  whose  writings  and 
teachings  shaped  the  doctrines  of  the  faith  in  the 
early  centuries  of  onr  era.  They  interpreted  for 
the  people  the  meaning  of  the  Scriptures  and  the 
Gospels. 

The  pendentive  of  our  illustration  contains  St. 
John  with  St.  Augustine.  The  two  sit  side  by  side, 
engaged  in  a  discussion  over  the  book  which  they 
hold  together.  St.  John  is  young  and  beautiful,  as 
the  painters  always  represent  him,  except  in  the  sub- 
ject of  the  vision  of  Patmos.  The  face  is  perhaps 
less  strong  and  the  expression  less  exalted  than  in  the 
lunette  we  have  studied.  There  is  a  boyish  eager- 
ness in  his  manner.  The  symbolic  eagle  is  beside 
him,  peeping  out  from  the  folds  of  the  drapery. 
St.  Augustine  is  a  handsome  old  man  with  finely  cut 
features.  To  understand  how  well  the  figure  fits  his 
character,  we  must  know  something  of  his  life.^ 

He  w^as  born  in  Numidia  near  the  middle  of  the 
fourth  century,  and  showed  in  his  boyhood  brilliant 
powers  of  mind.  Without  the  help  of  any  teacher 
he  read  and  mastered  all  the  books  necessary  to  an 
education  in  the  liberal  arts.  His  mother,  Monica, 
was  a  devout  Christian,  and  sought  to  lead  her  son 
to  a  godly  life.  For  a  long  time  her  efforts  seemed 
in  vain.  Augustine  would  make  no  profession  of 
the  Christian  faith,  but  rather  indulged  in  youthful 

^  The  life  of  St.  Augustine,  also  called  St.  Austin,  is  related  in  the 
Golden  Legend.  See  Caxton's  translation  in  the  Temple  Classics, 
vol.  5,  page  44.  Mrs.  Jameson  gives  a  condensed  account  of  the  life 
in  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art,  p.  303. 


ST.  JOHN   AND   ST.  AUGUSTINE  41 

dissipations.  His  best  quality  was  his  love  of  study. 
He  became  a  teacher  of  rhetoric,  and  pursued  his 
vocation  in  one  city  and  another,  always  dissatisfied 
with  his  life.  At  leng-th,  in  his  thirtieth  year,  he 
came  to  Milan,  where  he  fell  under  the  influence  of 
Bishop  Ambrose.  Then  followed  a  mighty  struggle 
in  his  soul,  and  in  the  end  he  yielded  himself  joy- 
fully as  a  disciple  of  Christ.  On  the  occasion  of  his 
baptism  was  composed  the  hymn  called  the  "  Te 
Deum  "  which  is  still  used  in  churches. 

Henceforth  the  life  of  Augustine  was  filled  with 
Christian  labors.  After  some  ten  years  of  devout 
living  he  became  the  bishop  of  Hippo  (near  Car- 
thage) where  he  resided  for  thirty-five  years,  until 
his  death  in  430.  All  his  stores  of  learnino'  were 
devoted  to  the  explanation  of  Christian  theology. 
He  wrote  a  great  number  of  treatises  refuting  what 
he  believed  to  be  heresies,  and  setting  forth  what  he 
considered  the  true  doctrines  of  the  faith.  An  old 
writer  pronounced  him  "  sweet  in  speech,  wise  in 
letters,  and  a  noble  worker  in  the  labours  of  the 
church."  In  a  book  of  "  Confessions  "  he  laid  bare 
all  his  faults  with  great  humility. 

In  our  picture  the  good  bishop  is  learning  the 
truths  of  the  faith  from  St.  John,  while  a  child-angel 
behind  him  holds  his  crosier  and  mitre.  Allowing 
for  the  difference  of  ages,  there  is  a  certain  resem- 
blance between  the  two  men,  showing  that  they  have 
in  common  a  refined  and  sensitive  nature,  and  an 
ardent  temperament.  The  older  man's  face  shows 
lines  of  thought  and  character. 


42  CORREGGIO 

St.  John  seems  to  be  counting  off  the  points  of 
the  discussion  on  his  fingers  :  it  may  be  that  he  is 
unfokling  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  The  bishop 
follows  the  argument  slowly,  imitating  St.  John's 
gesture  with  hesitating  hands.  What  seems  so  clear 
to  the  eager  young  teacher  requires  much  delibera- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  learner.  The  old  man  knits 
his  brows  with  an  intent  expression,  striving  to  un- 
derstand the  mystery.  The  two  earnest  faces  turned 
towards  each  other  make  an  interesting  contrast. 

The  angel  figures  of  the  pendentive  are  worthy 
of  notice.  Three  little  creatures  are  frolickins:  on 
the  clouds  below  the  saints'  feet,  and  two  are  perched 
on  the  upper  part  of  the  arches.  They  are  wing- 
less sprites,  playful  as  human  children,  but  with  a 
grace  and  beauty  not  of  earth.  Two  seem  to  be 
emerging  from  a  hiding-place  in  the  clouds,  and 
gaily  hail  their  comrade  on  the  arch  above.  The 
lovely  sprite  on  the  opposite  arch  is  thinking  of 
other  things,  and  looks  over  his  shoulder  across  the 
church.  The  tiny  fellow  in  charge  of  the  mitre  and 
crosier  peeps  out  with  a  mischievous  countenance. 

Our  reproduction  shows  a  portion  of  the  soffits, 
or   under   sides   of   the   arches,  decorated  with  fig- 
ures from  Old  Testament  history,  painted  in  mono 
chrome. 


VIII 

ST.    MATTHEW    AND    ST.    JEROME 

The  apostle  Matthew  was  employed  as  a  tax- 
gatherer  in  Jerusalem  when  he  became  a  disciple 
of  Jesus.  He  was  sitting-  one  day  at  the  receipt  of 
customs,  when  Jesus  passed  by  and  said  unto  him, 
"  Follow  me."  "  And  he  left  all,  rose  up  and  fol- 
lowed him."  ^  Soon  after,  the  new  disciple  made  a 
great  feast  for  the  Master,  scandalizing  the  scribes 
and  Pharisees  by  inviting  guests  of  doubtful  reputa- 
tion. Matthew,  however,  had  rightly  judged  the 
spirit  of  Jesus,  who  had  come  "  not  to  call  the  right- 
eous, but  sinners  to  repentance."  Throughout  the 
ministry  of  Jesus,  Matthew  remained  a  faithful  disci- 
ple, but  without  distinguishing  himself  in  any  way. 
Evidently  he  had  a  thoughtful  mind  and  a  good 
memory.  In  his  Gospel  he  reported  very  fully  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  many  of  the  parables. 

One  of  the  pendentives  of  the  cupola  in  the 
church  of  S.  Giovanni  Evangelista  is  devoted  to  St. 
Matthew  in  company  with  St.  Jerome.  The  Evange- 
list turns  from  the  open  Gospel  before  him  to  speak 
to  St.  Jerome,  who  is  occupied  with  his  writing.  A 
winged  cherub,  sitting  on  a  cloud  in  front  of  him, 
supports    his    book    with    both    outstretched    arms. 

^  St.  Luke,  chapter  v.,  verse  28. 


44  CORREGGIO 

The  cherub  is  St,  Matthew's  emblem,  as  the  eagle  is 
that  of  St.  John.  It  is  by  this  charming  figure  that 
the  old  masters  represented  the  face  of  "  a  man," 
that  is,  the  human  face,  in  the  "  living  creature  " 
of  Ezekiel's  vision.^  The  symbol  is  appropriately 
applied  to  the  first  Evangelist  because  his  Gospel 
emphasizes  the  humanity  of  Jesus. 

The  token  of  St.  Jerome's  identity  is  the  cardi- 
nal's hat,  held  by  an  angel  on  the  arch  beside  him. 
The  two  volumes  on  his  lap,  in  addition  to  the  scroll 
upon  which  he  is  engaged,  show  how  busy  has  been 
the  pen  of  this  learned  Father.  As  the  old  chroni- 
cler relates,  "  he  never  rested  day  ne  night,  but 
always  read  or  wrote."  '" 

He  came  of  a  rich  family,  and  received  at  Rome 
the  best  education  afforded  by  his  times.  Like  his 
contemporary,  St.  Angustine,  he  devoted  all  his 
scholarship  to  the  service  of  the  Christian  faith. 
While  St.  Augustine's  tastes  w^ere  more  philosophical, 
St.  Jerome's  were  perhaps  more  for  pure  learning 
and  the  study  of  the  classics.  He  made  himself 
master  of  Hebrew  and  Greek,  and  his  most  valuable 
work  was  his  translations.  He  rendered  into  Latin, 
which  was  the  literary  language  of  his  day,  the  vari- 
ous books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  and  this 
version  became  the  authorized  Bible  or  Vulgate. 

St.  Jerome  was  a  Dalmatian  by  birth,  but  in  the 

^  See  also  pages  34,  35. 

2  The  life  of  St.  Jerome  is  related  in  the  Golden  Legend.  See 
Caxtou's  translation,  in  the  Temple  Classics,  vol.  v.,  page  199.  Mrs. 
Jameson  gfives  a  condensed  account  of  the  same  in  Sacred  and 
Legendary  Art,  page  280. 


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ST.  MATTHEW   AND   ST.  JEROME  47 

course  of  his  life  he  journeyed  to  many  countries. 
Soon  after  his  baptism,  he  visited  Syria,  to  retrace 
the  scenes  of  the  Hfe  of  Christ.  He  then  retired  to 
a  desert,  where  he  passed  four  years  in  penance  and 
fasting,  Hving'  in  the  companionship  of  wild  beasts. 
Clothed  in  sackcloth,  he  spent  his  days  in  torture, 
struggling  with  temptation,  and  haunted  by  visions 
of  demons. 

At  a  later  period  of  his  life  he  was  in  Rome, 
where  he  gained  an  immense  influence  over  fashion- 
able women.  Two  of  his  converts  here  were  Paula 
and  Marcella,  whose  names  are  historical.  Finally 
he  returned  to  Palestine,  and  passed  the  remainder 
of  his  days  in  a  monastery  which  he  had  founded  in 
Bethlehem.  He  w^as  a  man  of  vehement  nature,  a 
violent  partisan,  and  an  untiring  student. 

Something  of  his  character  may  be  seen  in  the 
face  of  the  old  man  of  our  picture,  bending  over  his 
writing.  He  seems  so  absorbed  in  his  task  that  he 
is  entirely  unconscious  of  his  surroundings.  The 
deep-set  eyes,  overhung  by  shaggy  brows,  are  fixed 
intently  on  his  scroll.  From  his  association  with 
St.  Matthew,  w^e  may  fancy  that  he  is  translating  the 
first  Gospel.  The  Evangelist,  with  his  own  volume 
before  him,  is  supervising  the  work.  He  turns  to 
the  translator  with  an  encouraging  smile,  and  seems 
to  dictate  the  words.  St.  Matthew's  face  is  uentle 
and  amiable,  though  not  so  strong  as  we  are  wont  to 
imagine  it.  He  is  here  represented  in  middle  life, 
at  about  the  age  when  called  to  discipleship. 

As  in  the  pendentive  of  St.  John  and  St.  Angus- 


48  CORREGGIO 

tine,  the  angel  figures  add  an  element  of  beauty  to 
the  picture.  Each  one  seems  attracted  by  some  dis- 
tant object.  The  cherub  holding  St.  Matthew's 
book  looks  towards  the  worshippers  in  the  church. 
Some  one  in  the  conoTeo-ation  also  seems  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  angel  with  the  cardinal's  hat, 
and  he  smiles  shyly,  as  if  in  reply  to  a  gesture  of 
admiration.  His  companion  on  the  other  arch  turns 
his  eyes  towards  the  figures  in  the  dome,  where  the 
apostles  are  enthroned  on  clouds.  The  playful  little 
fellow  on  the  clouds  below  St.  Matthew's  feet  looks 
across  at  the  sprites  of  the  opposite  pendentive. 

All  this  charming  by-play  gives  the  impression  of 
a  company  of  living  spirits  frolicking  among  the 
arches  of  the  church.  ''  Have  Correggio's  putil  ^ 
grown  up  yet  and  walked  out  of  their  frames?"  the 
painter,  Guido  Reni,  used  to  ask,  referring  with 
quaint  humor  to  the  wonderful  lifelikeness  of  such 
child  figures.  So,  looking  at  these  angels,  we  half 
expect  to  see  them  wave  a  hand  to  us  over  the  arches, 
and,  turning  with  a  sudden  motion,  disappear  from 
our  sio-lit  amono-  the  clouds. 

^  Italian  for  "  boys." 


IX 

THE  REST  ON  THE  RETURN  FROM  EGYPT 

(The  Madonna  della  Scodella) 

Before  the  child  Jesus  was  two  years  ohl,  he 
was  taken  on  a  journey  which  at  that  time  was  long 
and  tedious.  An  angel  appeared  to  Joseph  one 
night  in  a  dream,  saying,  "  Arise,  and  take  the  young- 
child  and  his  mother,  and  flee  into  Egypt,  and  be 
thou  there  until  I  bring  thee  word  ;  for  Herod  will 
seek  the  young  child  to  destroy  him." 

The  news  of  Jesus'  birth  had  been  first  brouo'ht 
to  King  Herod  by  the  wdse  men  of  the  East,  who 
came  in  search  of  the  new-born  king  whose  star  they 
had  seen.  The  idea  of  a  strange  ruler  to  usurp  the 
throne  alarmed  Herod,  and  he  determined  to  be  rid 
of  any  possible  rival.  Accordingly  orders  were 
given  to  slay  all  children  in  and  near  Bethlehem 
"  from  two  years  old  and  under." 

While  this  terrible  slaughter  was  going  on,  the 
Holy  Family  were  making  their  way  to  the  strange 
land  of  refuge.  Here  they  lived,  awaiting  heavenly 
puidance  for  their  return.  "  But  when  Herod  was 
dead,  behold  an  angel  of  the  Lord  appeareth  in  a 
dream  to  Joseph  in  Eg>^t,  saying,  Arise,  and  take 
the  young  child  and  his  mother,  and  go  into  the 
land   of  Israel ;    for   they   are   dead   which   sought 


50  COKREGGIO 

the  young  child's  hfe.  And  he  arose,  and  took 
the  young  child  and  his  mother,  and  came  into  the 
land  of  Israel."  ^ 

This  is  all  the  Evangelist  tells  us  of  what  was 
doubtless  an  exciting,  perhaps  even  a  perilous  ad- 
venture. We  may  suppose  both  journeys  to  have 
been  made  by  donkeys,  the  common  beasts  of  bur- 
den in  Eastern  countries.  The  young  mother  and 
child  must  certainly  have  had  to  ride.  As  for  Joseph, 
he  was  a  stiu-dy  man,  and  may  well  have  walked  ;  in 
those  days  travelling  was  a  matter  of  time.  Unused 
to  luxuries,  these  simple  folk  trusted  in  Providence 
to  supply  their  few  needs  by  the  way. 

Our  picture  illustrates  an  imaginary  incident  on 
the  return  journey  from  Egypt  to  Israel.  It  is  the 
hour  of  the  noonday  rest,  and  the  little  company 
have  come  to  a  halt  in  the  woods.  An  old  legend 
relates  how  at  such  times  the  trees  would  bend  to 
offer  them  fruit,  and  springs  would  gush  forth  out 
of  the  dry  ground  for  their  refreshment.  Mary  has 
seated  herself  on  a  bank  by  the  stream,  while  Joseph 
plucks  the  fruit  from  the  date  palm  near  by. 

The  boy  Jesus  has  been  standing  between  the 
two,  watching  Joseph,  from  whose  outstretched 
hand  he  now  takes  the  fruit.  At  the  same  time  he 
is  thirsty,  and  leaning  back  towards  his  mother,  he 
turns  and  throws  an  arm  over  her  shoulder,  asking 
for  a  drink  of  water.  She  has  a  round  basin  (or 
scodeUa)  which  the  family  use  as  a  drinking-cup, 
and  the  child  points  to  it  with  a  coaxing  smile,  rest- 
ins;  his  hand  on  her  wrist. 

1  The  quotations  are  from  St.  Matthew,  chapter  ii. 


Alinari.  pboto. 


John  Andrew  &  Son,  Sc. 


THE   REST   ON    THE   RETURN    FROM    EGVPT   (MADONNA   BELLA 

SCODELLA) 

Parma  Gallery 


THE  REST  ON  THE  RETURN  FROM  EGYPT   53 

Mary  turns  with  fond  pride  towards  the  dear 
little  face  so  near  her  own.  Her  face  is  the  same 
wdiich  we  have  ah-eady  seen  bending  in  a  mother's 
first  ecstaey  over  her  babe.  Here  it  has  a  maturer 
and  more  matronly  look,  but  with  no  less  sweetness. 
Joseph,  from  his  higher  level,  looks  down  kindly 
upon  the  two.  His  generous  nature  seems  to  take 
delight  in  anything  that  gives  them  pleasure.  He 
is  large  and  heavily  built,  a  stalwart  protector  should 
perils  beset  them.  In  spite  of  the  thick  draperies  so 
clumsily  wound  about  him,  he  is  a  dignified  figure. 
He  holds  here  a  place  of  prominence  seldom  given 
him  by  other  painters. 

The  child  upon  whom  so  much  love  is  lavished  is 
a  tall,  lithe  boy  with  a  well  shaped  head.  His  hair 
is  parted,  and  falls  in  loose  curls  on  each  side  of  a 
forehead  which  marks  him  a  child  of  genius.  The 
face  is  delicate  and  sensitive,  with  a  shy  expression 
in  the  eyes. 

The -family  are  not  alone,  for,  all  unseen  by  them, 
a  company  of  ministering  angels  wait  upon  them. 
A  tall  one  in  the  rear  takes  care  of  the  donkey. 
Another  little  creature  peeps  from  the  thicket  beside 
Mary.  Four  more  circle  overhead  among  the  branches 
of  the  trees,  borne  upon  little  clouds  which  they  have 
brought  watli  them  from  the  upper  regions.  Their 
wind-blown  hair  and  flutterino-  o-arments  show  hoW' 
swift  is  their  motion.  One  of  them  tuo-s  mio-htilv 
at  the  palm,  throwing  himself  backward  in  the  effort 
to  bend  it  towards  Joseph.  Tw^o  others  sport  together 
with   interlocked   arms,   and  higher  still,  a  pair  of 


54  CORREGGIO 

eyes  gleam  through  the  leaves.  The  whole  jocund 
company  seem  to  fill  the  place  with  mirth.  They 
fulfil  the  promise  of  the  ancient  psalmist,  "  He  shall 
give  his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all 
thy  ways." 

Certain  characteristics  of  Correggio's  art  are  well 
illustrated  in  the  picture.  His  delight  in  the  foot  is 
here  almost  equal  to  that  he  shows  for  the  hand  in 
"  The  Marriage  of  St.  Catherine."  The  three  way- 
farers travel  with  bare  feet,  and  the  ministerino" 
angels  flaunt  their  feet  gaily  in  the  air.  Drawn  in 
many  positions,  it  is  interesting  to  see  how  decora- 
tive this  feature  of  the  picture  is. 

The  figures  are  cleverly  grouped,  that  they  may 
completely  fill  the  tall,  narrow  panel.  The  compo- 
sition is  built  on  a  diagonal  plan.  From  the  left 
hand  of  Joseph,  grasping  the  palm  branch,  to  the 
right  hand  of  Mary,  with  the  basin  of  water,  runs 
the  strong  main  line  which  gives  character  to  the 
drawino-.  The  child  links  the  two  larger  fiofures 
together,  by  stretching  out  a  hand  to  each.  The 
group  of  cloud-borne  angels  above  also  follows  a 
diagonal  direction  parallel  to  the  larger  group.  We 
shall  presently  see  that  the  painter  used  the  same 
method  of  composition  in  another  picture. 

The  opening  beyond  the  copse,  where  the  donkey 
is  tied,  makes  the  spot  seem  less  gloomy  and  isolated. 
It  is  an  important  principle  of  art  to  represent  no 
enclosed  place  without  a  glimpse  of  light  in  the  back- 
ground. 


X 


ECCE    HOMO 

The  old  Hebrew  prophet  who  wrote  of  the  coming 
Messiah  predicted  that  he  shoukl  be  "  despised  and 
rejected  of  men,  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted 
with  grief."  How  fully  the  prophecy  was  realized, 
we  may  read  in  the  narrative  of  the  trial  and  cruci- 
fixion of  Jesus. 

The  enemies  of  Jesus  had  to  deal  with  their 
prisoner  according-  to  the  formahty  of  the  Roman 
law.  They  broug;ht  him  to  the  Roman  governor, 
Pontius  Pilate,  accusing  him  of  "  perverting  the 
nation,  and  forbidding  to  give  tribute  to  Caesar,  say- 
ing that  he  himself  is  Christ,  a  king."  '  The  gov- 
ernor diily  examined  Jesus,  but,  finding  no  case 
against  him,  proposed  to  scoiu'ge  him  and  let  him 
go. 

"  Then  Pilate  thei'efore  took  Jesus  and  scoursfed 
him.  Aiul  the  soldiers  platted  a  crown  of  thorns 
and  put  it  on  his  head,  and  they  put  on  him  a 
purple  robe,  and  said,  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews !  and 
they  smote  him  with  their  hands,  Pilate  therefore 
went  forth  again,  and  saith  unto  them.  Behold,  I 
bring  him  forth  to  you,  that  ye  may  know  that  I  fiiid 
no  fault  in  him. 

^  St.  Luke,  chapter  xxiii.,  verse  2. 


S6  CORREGGIO 

"  Then  came  Jesus  forth,  weanng  the  crown  of 
thorns,  and  the  purple  robe.  And  Pihite  saith  unto 
them,  Behokl  the  man  !  When  the  chief  priests 
therefore  and  officers  saw  him,  they  cried  out,  saying 
Crucify  him,  Crucify  him."  ^  Pilate  again  sought  to 
release  Jesus,  but  the  people  continued  to  clamor, 
"  Away  with  him,"  "  Crucify  him."  "  Then  deliv- 
ered he  him  therefore  unto  them  to  be  crucified."  ^ 

The  Latin  form  of  Pilate's  Avords,  "  Behold  the 
man,"  has  given  the  title  "  Ecce  Homo  "  to  our  pic- 
ture. It  is  the  moment  when  Jesus  comes  forth  from 
the  rude  mockery  of  the  soldiers,  clad  in  a  royal 
robe,  and  wearing  the  crown  of  thorns.  The  gov- 
ernor has  bidden  one  of  the  soldiers  lead  the  prisoner 
out  on  a  balcony  of  the  palace.  An  eager  throng  of 
people  are  waiting  outside,  but  they  are  not  all  ene- 
mies. Among  them  are  a  few  faithful  women,  and 
they  are  allowed  to  press  close  to  the  balcony.  At 
the  sight  of  her  son,  treated  as  a  criminal  with 
bound  hands,  the  mother,  Mary,  falls  swooning  over 
the  balustrade,  supported  by  a  younger  woman. 

Pilate  standing  in  the  doorway  behind  appeals  to 
the  crowd :  "  I  find  no  fault  in  him.  Behold  the 
man."  He  has  been  deeply  impressed  by  his  inter- 
view with  Jesus,  and  is  willing  to  do  something  in 
his  behalf.  His  face  is  good-natiu-ed,  we  see,  but 
with  no  strength  of  character  in  it.  He  is  a  hand- 
some man  with  curling  beard  carefully  trimmed, 
apparently  not  a  hard  man  to  deal  with,  but  easy- 
going and  selfish. 

^  St.  John,  chapter  xix.,  verses  1-6.  '^  lb.,  verse  16. 


From  oarboD  print  hj  Braun,  ClemenC  &  Co> 


John  Andrew  &  Son,  Sc. 


ECCE    HOMO 
Natiottal  Gallery,  London 


:? 


ECCE   HOMO  59 

Jesus  stands  with  drooping  head  and  an  expres- 
sion of  sult'ering  resignation.  In  the  menacing 
faces  before  him  he  sees  the  hatred  which  will  be 
satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  his  death.  Already 
he  hears  the  cruel  cry,  "  Crucify  him,  crucify  him." 
His  badge  of  kingship  is  the  crown  of  suffering. 
Were  his  kingdom  of  this  world,  his  servants  would 
deliver  him  from  his  enemies.  As  the  ruler  of  a 
heavenly  kingdom,  he  was  born  "  to  bear  witness 
unto  the  truth." 

The  rich  mantle,  which  the  soldiers  have  mock- 
ingly thrown  over  his  shoulders,  falls  away  and 
shows  the  body  as  it  had  been  bared  for  the  scourg- 
ing. It  is  a  beautiful  form,  perfectly  developed, 
and  the  arms  and  hands  are  as  delicately  modelled 
as  a  woman's.  The  face  is  oval,  with  regular  fea- 
tures of  classic  mould,  a  short  parted  beard,  and  long 
hair  fallinof  in  disordered  curls  about  it.  This  is  the 
typical  face  of  Christ,  as  it  has  been  handed  down 
from  generation  to  generation  since  early  in  the 
Christian  era.  The  rude  pictures  in  the  catacombs 
are  on  the  same  model.  So  faithfully  has  the  type 
been  followed  through  the  centuries,  some  believe 
that  the  orio-inal  must  have  been  an  authentic  like- 


1 


ness. 

The  mother  Mary  is  still  young  and  beautiful. 
As  the  great  Michelangelo  said,  "  Purity  enjoys 
eternal  youth."  '^     A  heavy  veil  or  mantle  is  draped 

^  See  Rex  Regum,  by  Sir  Wyke  Bayliss. 

2  See  the   volume  on  Michelangelo   in  the    Riverside   Art   Series, 
page  35. 


GO  CORREGGIO 

over  her  head,  framing"  the  pure  profile  of  her  face. 
This  form  of  drapery  is  common  among  the  old 
masters  in  painting  Mary  as  Mater  Dolorosa,  or  the 
Sorrowino'  Mother. 

Artistically  considered,  this  figure  of  the  fainting 
mother  is  the  finest  thing  in  the  picture.  Her  com- 
panion, probably  Mary  Magdalene,  is  also  a  lovely 
creature,  though  we  see  only  a  part  of  her  face. 

The  subject  is  in  tragic  contrast  to  the  illustra- 
tions we  have  just  been  studying.  It  seems  strange 
to  connect  this  Man  of  Sorrows  with  the  happy  boy 
we  saw  by  the  woodland  spring,  or  this  grief-stricken 
woman  Avith  that  proud  young  mother.  Correggio 
himself,  we  know,  shrank  from  such  sad  themes. 

Like  the  picture  of  The  Marriage  of  St.  Cather- 
ine, our  illustration  shows  how  skilfully  Correggio 
painted  hands.  The  drooping  fingers  of  the  Saviour 
taper  delicately,  with  long  almond-shaped  nails. 
Pilate's  hand  has  slender,  flexible  fingers  like  those 
of  some  dainty  woman,  and  might  be  mated  with 
that  of  Mary  Magdalene.  It  is  apparent  that  the 
study  of  hands  and  feet  interested  our  painter  more 
than  that  of  faces.  We  shall  lose  much  in  his  pict- 
ures if  we  do  not  give  special  attention  to  these 
features.  In  the  case  before  us,  the  face  of  Christ 
must  be  less  attractive,  on  account  of  the  sorrowful 
expression.  To  make  up,  as  it  were,  for  this,  the 
hands  are  brought  into  prominent  notice,  and  are 
very  beautiful. 


XI 


APOSTLES    AND    GENII 

The  glory  of  Parma  is  the  Cathedral,  which  re- 
presents the  labors  of  many  centuries.  The  build- 
ing- itself  was  begun  in  1058,  and  completed  in  the 
thirteenth  century.  The  interior  was  beautified  by 
a  succession  of  artists,  one  of  whom  was  our  painter 
Correo;o;io.  His  work  liere  was  the  decoration  of  the 
cupola,  and  he  began  it  immediately  upon  finishing 
the  frescoes  in  the  church  of  S.  Giovanni  Evan- 
gelista. 

The  Cathedral  dome  is  octagonal  in  shape.  In 
the  roof,  or  topmost  space,  the  Virgin  Mary  seems 
borne  on  circlino-  thronofs  of  saints  and  ansfels  to 
meet  thcSaviour  in  the  upper  air.  Below  the  dome 
runs  a  cornice,  or  frieze,  in  eight  sections,  filled  with 
figures  of  apostles  gazing  upon  the  vision.  Still 
lower  are  four  decorated  pendentives,  similar  to 
those  in  the  church  of  S.  Giovanni  Evanofelista. 
These  contain  respectively  the  four  patron  saints  of 
Parma. 

To  the  spectator  looking  up  from  below,  the  effect 
is  of  "  a  moving  vision,  rapturous  and  ecstatic."  A 
multitude  of  radiant  figures  sweep  and  whirl  through 
the  heavenly  spaces.  "  They  are  npon  every  side, 
bending,  tossing,  floating,  and  diving   through  the 


62  CORREGGIO 

clouds,  hovering  above  the  abysmal  void  that  is  be- 
tween  the  dome  and  the  eartli  below  it."  ^  Wonder- 
ful indeed  is  the  triumph  of  the  painter's  art  in  this 
place.  "  Reverse  the  cupola  and  fill  it  with  gold,  and 
even  that  will  not  represent  its  worth,"  said  Titian. 

Our  illustration  shows  a  portion  of  the  octagonal 
cornice.  The  design  is  a  simulated  balcony  orna- 
mented watli  tall  candelabra.  In  front  stand  the 
apostles  grouped  in  tw^os  at  the  corners.  On  the 
top  of  the  balustrade,  in  the  spaces  between  the 
candelabra,  sport  a  band  of  genii,  or  heavenly 
spirits. 

The  four  apostles  are  men  of  giant  frames  with 
broad  shoulders  and  stalwart  limbs.  They  are  of 
middle  age,  heavily  bearded,  and  all  look  much 
ahke.  It  would  be  impossible  to  call  one  Peter,  and 
another  Paul,  or  to  identify  any  particular  persons. 
Evidently  it  was  not  the  intention  of  the  artist  to 
distinguish  individuals.  All  the  figures  are  turned 
with  lifted  faces  towards  the  vision  in  the  dome. 
Each  expresses,  by  a  gesture,  the  wonder,  joy,  rapt- 
ure, or  admiration  aroused  by  the  spectacle.  Their 
attitudes  are  somewdiat  extravagant  and  self-con- 
scious. The  drapery,  too,  is  rather  fantastic,  flung 
about  their  figures,  leaA^ng  arms  and  legs  bare. 
Were  the  picture  taken  out  of  its  siuTOundings  it 
^vould  scarcely  suggest  a  Christian  subject.  These 
colossal  beings  are  like  Titans  mo^^ng  through  the 
figures  of  a  sacred  dance,  and  murmuring  the  mys- 
tic incantations  of  some  heathen  rite. 

1  E.  H.  Blashfield  iu  Italian  Cities. 


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APOSTLES   AND   GENII  65 

But  we  must  not  press  our  interpretation  too  far. 
The  panel  should  be  studied  for  its  decorative  qual- 
ity as  a  part  of  a  larger  scheme.  Viewed  from  be- 
low, this  procession  of  figures  must  be  exceedingly 
effective.  The  emphasis  of  lines  is  diagonal,  flow- 
ing in  the  direction  of  the  focal  point  of  the  whole 
decoration. 

The  genii  of  the  balustrade  are  beings  of  Correg- 
o'io's  own  creation.  His  imaoination  called  forth  a 
world  of  spirits  without  a  counterpart  in  the  work 
of  any  other  painter.  Lacking  the  wings  usually 
given  in  art  to  angels,  they  also  lack  the  proper  air 
of  sanctity  for  heavenly  habitants.  Yet  they  are 
far  too  ethereal  for  mortals.  Neither  angel  nor 
human,  they  are  rather  sprites  of  elf-land.  With 
their  tossing  hair  and  agile  motions  they  remind 
us  of  woodland  creatures,  and  they  look  shyly  out 
of  their  eyes  like  the  furtive  folk  of  the  forest. 

They  are  sportive,  but  not  mischievous,  in  the 
human  sense.  They  frolic  in  the  pure  delight  of 
motion.  By  mortal  standards  of  age  they  are  be- 
tween childhood  and  youth,  when  limbs  are  long  and 
bodies  supple.  Their  only  draperies  are  narrow 
scarfs  which  they  twist  about  them  in  every  con- 
ceivable way. 

Of  the  seven  figures  seen  in  our  illustration,  two 
only  have  any  ostensible  purpose  to  serve.  One 
seems  to  be  lighting  a  candelabrum  with  a  flambeau  ; 
another  carries  a  bowl  which  may  be  used  for  in- 
cense. The  others  are  idlers.  If  they  have  any 
duties  as  acolytes,   these   are  for  the  moment   for- 


66  CORREGGIO 

gotten.  Several  are  attracted  by  the  ceremonies  in 
the  cathedral  and  look  down  from  their  high  perch 
upon  the  worshipping  congregation. 

The  sprite  at  the  extreme  right  is  seated,  and 
peeps  over  his  shoulder  with  a  rather  dreamy  expres- 
sion. Next  come  two  who  are  playing  together,  one 
throwing  up  his  left  arm  as  if  to  balance  himself. 
Beyond  the  candelabrum  is  one  whose  parted  hair 
and  coquettish  pose  of  the  head  give  a  feminine  look 
to  the  figure.  The  sprite  in  the  centre  of  the  balus- 
trade is  the  most  winsome  of  the  company.  His 
bright  eyes  have  spied  out  some  one  in  the  congre- 
gation, and  stooping,  he  points  directly  at  the  person, 
His  expression  is  very  roguish.  The  little  fellow 
with  the  flambeau  is  at  the  left,  and  last  is  one  whose 
face  is  turned  away  towards  the  imaginary  space  be- 
hind the  balcony. 

Our  illustration  gives  us  a  general  idea  of  Correg- 
gio's  decorative  method.  The  human  body  was  hia 
material ;  his  patterns  were  woven  of  nude  figures, 
posed  in  every  possible  attitude.  Every  figure  is  in 
motion,  and  the  whole  multitude  palpitates  with  the 
joy  of  living. 


XII 


ST.    JOHN    THE    BAPTIST 


In  one  of  the  pendentives  of  the  cupola  in  the 
Parma  Cathedral  is  the  figure  of  St.  John  the  Bap- 
tist reproduced  in  our  illustration.  The  background 
is  made  to  resemble  somewhat  the  interior  of  a  shell. 
On  billows  of  clouds  sits  the  prophet,  with  a  lamb 
in  his  arms,  and  a  circle  of  angels  playing  about 
him. 

St.  John  the  Baptist  was  a  cousin  of  Jesus,  and  the 
first  to  recognize  the  true  character  of  the  carpen- 
ter's son.  While  Jesus  was  still  living  in  obscurity 
in  Nazareth,  John  went  forth  to  preach  in  the  wil- 
derness about  the  river  Jordan.  His  manner  of  life 
was  very  singular.  He  "  had  his  raiment  of  camel's 
hair  and  a  leathern  girdle  about  his  loins ;  and  his 
meat  was  locusts  and  wild  honey."  ^ 

The  preacher  was  stern  in  denouncing  sin  and  in 
warning  evil-doers  of  the  wrath  to  come.  The  bur- 
den of  all  his  sermons  was,  ''  Repent,  for  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  is  at  hand."  When  the  people  asked 
him  what  they  ought  to  do,  his  answers  were  full  of 
common  sense.  "  He  that  hath  two  coats,  let  him 
impart  to  him  that  hath  none  ;  and  he  that  hath 
meat,  let  him  do  likewise."     To  the  tax-collectors, 

'  St.  Matthew,  chapter  iii.,  verse  4. 


68  COKREGGIO 

he  said,  "  Exact  no  more  than  that  which  is  ap- 
pointed you  ;  "  to  the  soldiers,  "  Do  violence  to  no 
man,  neither  accuse  any  falsely."  ^ 

The  authorities  sent  from  Jerusalem  to  question 
the  claims  of  the  strange  preacher ;  but  his  reply  was 
in  the  words  of  the  old  Hebrew  prophet,  "  I  am  the 
voice  of  one  crvins"  in  the  wilderness."  ^ 

It  was  the  custom  of  John  to  baptize  his  converts 
in  the  river  Jordan.  One  day  Jesus  presented  him- 
self for  baptism,  and  John  saw  in  him  one  whose 
shoe's  latchet  he  was  not  worthy  to  unloose.  At 
once  he  proclaimed  him  to  the  people  as  the  "  Lamb 
of  God  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world."  ^ 

With  the  entrance  of  Jesus  upon  his  ministry, 
John's  work  was  fulfilled.  "  He  must  increase,  but 
I  must  decrease,"  said  the  prophet  humbly.^  He  was 
soon  after  cast  into  prison  by  King  Herod,  whose 
vices  he  had  openly  rebuked.  Thence  he  was  taken 
out  only  to  be  executed. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Correggio  cared  very 
little  about  making  a  true  character  study  of  St. 
John.  There  is  not  much  in  the  figure  of  our  pen- 
dentive  to  suggest  the  stern  and  fearless  prophet  of 
the  wilderness.  The  humility  of  the  countenance  is 
perhaps  the  feature  most  appropriate  to  the  charac- 
ter. The  shy,  haunting  expression  in  the  eyes  is, 
too,  such  as  belongs  to  one  who,  like  St.  John,  lived 
much  alone  in  the  woods.  The  tunic  is  short  and 
sleeveless,  showing  the  strong  limbs  of  the  hermit. 

1  St.  Luke,  chapter  iii.  ^  St.  John,  chapter  i.,  verse  23. 

^  /i.,  verse  29.  *  St.  John,  chapter  iii.,  verse  30. 


AUnari,  pbv^tu. 


Jubn  Andrew  &  ftwu,  bo. 


ST.  JOHN   THE    BAPTIST 
Catlicdral,  Joanna 


ST.  JOHN   THE   BAPTIST  71 

For  the  rest,  the  Baptist's  face  has  the  same  gentle 
amiability  we  have  already  seen  in  St.  Matthew  and 
Joseph.  The  type  is  a  common  one  with  Correg'gio. 
A  certain  resemblance  runs  through  nearly  all  his 
male  figures,  whether  of  smooth-faced  youth,  bearded 
manhood,  or  hoary  old  age. 

The  tenderness  of  St.  John  for  his  little  lamb  is 
the  chief  motive  of  the  picture.  He  carries  it  on  his 
left  arm,  supporting  the  weight  on  his  knee,  and 
the  innocent  creature  puts  its  nose  close  to  the  pro- 
phet's face.  The  lamb  is  the  accepted  symbol  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist,  in  allusion  to  the  words  with  which 
he  addressed  Jesus  at  the  Jordan,  "  Behold  the  lamb 
of  God."  The  same  figure  is  used  in  the  book  of 
Revelation,  where  the  Lamb  is  described  "in  the 
midst  of  tlie  throne."  Standing  for  the  person  of 
Christ  himself,  St.  John  holds  the  sacred  emblem 
with  reverence.  To  understand  why  his  face  is  lifted 
in  this  direction  we  must  remember  that  his  glance 
is  direcfed  toward  the  vision  in  the  dcmie  just  above. 

The  angel  figures  of  this  pendentive  are  among 
the  most  beautiful  and  characteristic  of  the  myriad 
throng  of  the  cupola.  The  impression  made  by  this 
great  spirit  company  upon  one  standing  beneath  the 
dome  has  been  described  in  some  lines  by  Aubrey  de 
Vere  :  — 

"  Creatures  nil  eyes  and  brows  and  tresses  streaming, 
By  speed  divine  l)lovvn  back;  within  all  fii'e 
Of  wondering  zeal,  and  storm  of  bright  desire. 
Round  the  broad  dome  the  immortal  throngs  are  beaming, 
With  elemental  powers  the  vault  is  teeming; 
We  gaze,  and  gazing  join  the  fervid  choir. 
In  spirit  launched  on  wings  that  ne'er  can  tire." 


72  CORREGGIO 

While  the  spirits  in  the  upper  part  of  the  cupola 
are  massed  so  closely  together  that  we  do  not  see  the 
full  beauty  of  each  one,  these  in  our  picture  may  be 
studied  separately.  Tliere  are  six  in  all,  and  their 
purpose  is  to  call  the  attention  of  the  worshippers 
to  the  prophet.  The  two  in  the  rear,  whose  bodies 
are  hidden  in  the  clouds,  gaze  upon  him  adoringly. 
One  on  each  side  points  with  outstretched  finger  to 
the  lamb,  as  if  repeating  the  Baptist's  words,  "  Be- 
hold the  lamb  of  God."  The  angel  astride  the 
cloud  in  front  was  interrupted  in  the  same  task  by  a 
little  fellow  suddenly  shooting  out  from  the  clouds 
beneath  him.  He  peers  into  the  opening  at  one 
side,  but  still  lifts  his  left  hand  towards  the  prophet 
above  him. 

The  six  figures  are  arranged  in  a  semicircle,  and 
theii*  slender  Umbs  and  lithe  bodies  trace  rhythmic 
lines  of  grace.  The  most  charming  of  the  company 
is  perhaps  he  at  the  right,  whose  eyes  meet  our? 
with  a  bewitching  smile. 


XIII 

CHRIST    APPEARING     TO    MARY     MAGDALENE    IN    THE 

GARDEN 

(Noli  me  tangere) 

It  was  Sunday,  the  third  day  after  the  crucifixion 
of  Jesus.  Early  in  the  morning,  while  it  was  yet 
dark,  a  young  woman  made  her  way  to  the  rock- 
hewn  tomb  in  the  garden  of  Joseph  of  Arimathea. 
It  was  Mary  Magdalene,  whom  Jesus  had  rescued 
from  a  life  of  sin.  Much  had  been  forgiven  her, 
therefore  she  loved  much.  In  her  sorrow  she  came 
to  visit  the  spot  where  the  body  of  her  crucified 
Master  had  been  laid. 

Great  ""was  her  surprise  to  find  that  the  stone 
placed  at  the  entrance  of  the  tomb  had  been  rolled 
away.  In  her  perplexity,  she  ran  to  tell  the  disciples 
Peter  and  John.  They  all  hurried  back  together 
to  the  garden,  and  the  two  men,  entering  the  tomb, 
found  it  empty.  Unable  to  explain  the  mystery, 
they  presently  returned  home,  leaving  Mary  still 
standing  without  the  sepulchre  weeping. 

"  And  as  she  wept,  she  stooped  down,  and  looked 
into  the  sepulchre,  and  seeth  two  angels  in  white 
sitting,  the  one  at  the  head,  and  the  other  at  the 
feet,  where  the  body  of  Jesus  had  lain.     And  they 


74  CORREGGIO 

say  unto  her,  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  She 
saith  unto  them.  Because  they  have  taken  away 
my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid 
him. 

"  And  when  she  had  thus  said,  she  turned  herself 
back,  and  saw  Jesus  standing,  and  knew  not  that  it 
was  Jesus.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Woman,  why 
weepest  thou  ?  whom  seekest  thou  ?  She,  suppos- 
ing him  to  be  the  gardener,  saith  unto  him,  Sir,  if 
thou  have  borne  him  hence,  tell  me  where  thou  hast 
laid  him,  and  I  will  take  him  away.  Jesus  saith 
unto  her,  Mary.  She  turned  herself,  and  saith 
unto  him,  Rabboni ;   which  is  to  say.  Master. 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  her.  Touch  me  not ;  for  I  am 
not  yet  ascended  to  my  Father :  but  go  to  my 
brethren,  and  say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto  my  Fa- 
ther, and  your  Father  ;  and  to  my  God,  and  your 
God."  ' 

Our  picture  illustrates  the  story  of  that  first  Eas- 
ter morning.  Jesus  has  greeted  Mary  by  name,  and 
she  has  instantly  recognized  the  Master.  Sinking 
on  her  knees,  she  would  have  impulsively  stretched 
out  her  hands  to  him,  but  he  repels  her  with  a  ges- 
ture. Awe-struck,  she  gazes  into  his  face,  while  he 
explains  the  message  she  is  to  carry  to  the  disciples. 

The  risen  Lord  is  clad  in  but  one  garment,  a  heavy 
mantle,  knotted  at  the  waist.  The  upper  part  is 
slipping  from  his  shoulders,  leaving  the  torso  bare. 
The  beauty  of  the  form  reminds  us  of  a  Greek  statue. 
On  the  ground  beside  him  are  some  garden  tools,  a 

^  Chapter  xx.  of  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  John,  verses  11-17. 


Wi« 

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W._^^SF^ 

*.■■' 

?  <*r         ^■■'-'rz^ — 

^ 

From  carboD  print  b;  Braun,  ClcmeDt  &.  Co. 


Jylin  Antlrew  i  ftim,  bo. 


CHRIST  APPEARING  TO   MARY  MAGDALENE    IN   THE  GARDEN 
(NOLI   ME  TANGERE) 

Prado  Gallery,  Madrid 


CHRIST  IN   THE   GARDEN  77 

hoe  and  a  spade,  and  beyond  these  Hes  a  straw  hat. 
These  things  explain  why  Mary,  bhuded  and  con- 
fused with  weeping-,  supposed  that  it  was  the  gar- 
dener who  spoke  to  her. 

The  Master's  attitude  and  gesture  emphasize  the 
meaning  of  his  words.  The  body  sways  sHghtly  to 
one  side,  as  if  shrinking  from  Mary's  touch.  He 
still  holds  his  right  hand  outstretched,  as  when  he 
said  "  Touch  me  not."  And  now  he  raises  his  left 
arm,  and  pointing  heavenward  declares  that  he  is 
about  to  ascend  to  his  Father.  He  seems  to  speak 
gently  as  to  a  child,  and  looks  down  into  Mary's 
face  with  a  smile. 

The  young  woman  is  richly  arrayed  in  a  brocade 
dress,  cut  so  as  to  show  her  beautiful  neck  and 
arms.  A  mass  of  wavy  golden  hair  falls  over  her 
shoulders  and  upon  her  bosom.  Her  tapering  wrists 
and  dehcate  hands  indicate  gentle  blood,  but  her 
features  are  somewhat  heavy,  and  the  face  would 
not  attract  us  by  its  beauty.  The  rapt  expression 
of  devotion  is  what  makes  it  interesting.  The  whole 
attitude  expresses  complete  self-forgetf ulness. 

The  lithe  and  youthful  figure  of  Christ  recalls 
the  boy  we  saw  in  a  former  picture  journeying  from 
Egypt.  We  can  see  that  this  is  the  man  into  whom 
that  child  is  o;rown.  We  note  aji'ain  the  hio-h  full 
forehead  over  which  the  parted  hair  is  brushed  in 
curves.  Again,  too,  we  see  the  small  mouth  with 
the  ii'entle  smile.  The  fisfure  in  ofeneral  features  re- 
sembles  the  Christ  type  which  is  illustrated  in  the 
picture  of  Ecce  Homo. 


78  CORREGGIO 

In  painting  the  figure  of  the  risen  Christ,  the  old 
masters  were  accustomed  to  give  prominence  to  the 
nail  prints  in  hands  and  feet,  and  the  wound  in  his 
side.  Correggio  has  not  done  this.  Such  signs  of 
suffering  were  inconsistent  with  the  joyous  nature 
of  his  art.  The  subject  of  the  picture  is  entirely  a 
happy  one,  and  he  has  kept  out  of  it  all  evidences 
of  the  crucifixion,  emphasizing  rather  the  idea  of 
the  ascension. 

In  some  artistic  points  our  picture  resembles  the 
Madonna  della  Scodella.  The  pose  of  Christ  is 
similar  to  that  of  Joseph,  with  one  arm  lifted  up, 
and  the  other  reaching;  down.  Thus  is  formed  the 
diagonal  line  which  is  at  the  basis  of  the  composi- 
tion. The  right  arm  of  Mary  carries  the  line  on 
to  the  lower  corner  of  the  picture. 

The  landscape  setting  makes  a  spacious  back- 
ofround,  and  a  laro-e  tree  behind  Christ  throws  his 
figure  into  relief. 


XIV 

THE    MADONNA    OF    ST.    JEROME 
(II  Giorno) 

It  is  a  bright  clear  day,  and  a  baby  boy  is  having 
a  rare  frolic  out  of  doors,  on  his  mother's  knee.  It 
is  the  little  Christ-child,  and  his  visitors  are  St.  Je- 
rome and  Mary  Magdalene.  Overhead  a  red  cloth 
drapery  has  been  stretched  from  tree  to  tree,  making 
a  sort  of  canopy  to  protect  the  company  from  the 
direct  rays  of  the  sun.  St.  Jerome  has  brought 
as  an  offering  the  books  which  represent  the 
scholarly  toil  of  many  years.  Mary  Magdalene 
has  her  jar  of  ointment  for  the  anointing  of  the 
Savioui'^s  feet. 

The  mother  sits  on  a  slight  elevation  in  the  centre, 
her  bare  foot  resting  on  the  ground.  St.  Jerome 
stands  in  front,  a  little  at  one  side,  where  he  can 
hold  a  book  directly  before  the  child's  face.  Mary 
Magdalene,  half  kneeling  on  the  other  side,  stoops 
to  caress  a  little  foot.  The  sturdy  old  father  seems 
to  have  come  directly  from  his  monastery  in  Bethle- 
hem, and  his  lion  follows  him  like  a  faithful  doo-. 
The  old  leo-end  relates  that  as  he  sat  one  evenino-  at 
his  monastery  gate,  a  lion  approached,  holding  up 
a  paw  which  was  pierced  with  a  thorn.     The  good 


80  CORREGGIO 

father  removed  the  thorn  and  dressed  the  wound, 
and  the  o^i-atef ul  beast  became  thenceforth  the  con- 
stant  companion  of  his  benefactor. 

The  scroll  in  St.  Jerome's  right  hand  may  be  any 
one  of  his  many  treatises  or  translations.  The  large 
open  volume  is  undoubtedly  his  Latin  version  of  the 
Bible.  One  side  of  the  book  is  supported  on  his  left 
hand,  while  the  other  is  held  by  an  attendant  angel, 
who  turns  the  pages  for  the  Christ-child.  There  is 
something  very  interesting  on  the  page  now  open, 
and  the  angel  points  a  slender  finger  to  a  particular 
passage.  The  child  is  wrought  up  to  the  highest 
pitch  of  excitement.  He  stretches  out  his  legs  and 
arms,  his  whole  body  stiffening  in  a  tremor  of  joy. 
He  fairly  pants  with  eagerness  for  the  treasure  just 
beyond  his  grasp.  Though  not  a  pretty  boy,  he  is 
so  full  of  life  that  we  find  him  very  captivating. 

Old  St.  Jerome  looks  immensely  pleased  with  the 
child's  delight.  The  angel  playfellow^  is  delighted 
with  his  success  in  amusing  the  baby,  and  laughs 
sympathetically  with  him.  The  mother  smiles  with 
gentle  indulgence,  and  holds  hun  firmly  lest  he  spring 
from  her  arms.  Mary  Magdalene  appears  almost 
unconscious  of  what  is  going  on.  Her  whole  being 
is  absorbed  in  lovino-  devotion.  She  has  caug-ht  one 
little  foot  lightly  by  the  heel,  and,  drawing  it  towards 
her,  lays  her  cheek  against  the  soft  knee.  Her  hair 
is  unbound,  and  falls  in  long  tresses  over  her  neck. 
In  throwing  out  his  arms,  the  child's  left  hand  has 
fallen  on  the  golden  head,  and  here  it  rests  as  if  he 
returned  the  caress.    In  the  mean  time  a  mischievous 


From  carbon  print  bj  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

THE   MADONNA   OF  ST.   JEROME 
Parma  Gallery 


John  Andrew  t  Son.  Sc. 


THE   MADONNA   OF   ST.  JEROME  83 

urchin,  who  may  be  the  boy  Baptist,  holds  the  Mag- 
dalene's  jar  o£  ointment.  He  stands  behind  her  Hke 
a  small  lackey,  and  sniffs  curiously  at  the  contents 
of  the  pot. 

If  it  seems  strange  that  St.  Jerome  and  Mary  Mag- 
dalene should  be  here  together,  we  must  remember 
that  the  painters  of  Correggio's  time  did  not  try  to 
represent  sacred  scenes  with  historical  accuracy.  It 
was  customary  to  bring  together  in  a  picture  persons 
who  lived  in  altogether  different  periods  and  coun- 
tries. The  meaning  of  such  pictures  was  symbolic. 
The  Christians  of  all  ages  constitute  a  communion 
of  the  saints  who  meet  at  the  Christ-child's  feet. 

The  two  saints  here  make  a  fine  artistic  contrast, 
—  the  rugged  and  grizzled  old  man,  and  the  lovely 
golden  -  haired  maiden.  The  splendid  muscular 
streno'th  of  tlie  one  is  offset  ao-ainst  the  radiant 
beauty  of  the  other.  In  a  devotional  sense  also  the 
contrast  is  most  appropriate.  St.  Jerome  has  served 
the  Christ  with  great  powers  of  intellect ;  Mary  Mag- 
dalene brings  only  a  woman's  loving  heart.  The 
one  has  written  great  books ;  the  other  could  do 
nothing  but  anoint  the  Saviour's  feet.  Yet  the  two 
kinds  of  service  are  equally  important.  St.  Jerome's 
translations  have  carried  the  gospel  over  the  world, 
and  it  is  written  that  "  Wheresoever  this  gospel  shall 
be  preached  in  the  whole  world,  there  shall  also  this, 
that  this  woman  hath  done,  be  told  for  a  memorial 
of  her." ' 

The  composition  of  the  picture  is  on  a  diagonal 

^  St.  Matthew,  chapter  xxvi.,  verse  13. 


84  CORREGGIO 

plan  similar  to  that  which  we  have  already  noticed 
in  his  pictures.^  The  structural  Hue  may  be  traced 
from  the  top  of  St.  Jerome's  head  across  the  shoul- 
ders and  back  of  Mary  Magdalene.  The  edge  of 
the  canopy  overhead  emphasizes  this  line  by  follow- 
ing the  same  general  direction.  The  child's  figure 
behind  the  Magdalene  balances  the  figure  of  the 
lion  in  the  left  corner. 

The  landscape  which  lies  beyond  the  canopy  is  an 
important  and  beautiful  part  of  the  picture.  With- 
out this  spacious  distance  in  the  background  the 
large  figm-es  filling  the  foreground  would  crowd 
the  composition  unpleasantly.  It  is  a  relief  to  the 
eye  to  traverse  this  stretch  of  sunny  country. 

The  picture  makes  it  possible  for  us  to  understand 
why  Correggio  has  been  called  a  painter  of  "  light 
and  space  and  motion."  All  three  characteristics 
are  admirably  illustrated  here.  In  color,  too,  the 
original  painting  is  very  fine.  The  Virgin  wears 
the  usual  red  robe  and  blue  mantle,  the  colors  denot- 
ing love  and  constancy.  St.  Jerome  has  a  blue  dra- 
pery about  the  hips  and  a  crimson  mantle,  while  the 
angel's  tunic  and  Mary  Magdalene's  mantle  are 
yellow. 

It  is  the  clear  golden  atmosphere  flooding  the 
scene  which  gives  it  the  Italian  name  of  "  II  GiornO;" 
The  Day. 

^  See  chapters  IX.  and  XIII. 


XV 


CUPID    SHARPENING  HIS  ARROWS 

(Detail  of  Danae) 

In  the  imagination  of  the  ancient  Greeks  all 
human  love  was  inspired  by  the  goddess  Aphrodite, 
Venus,  aided  by  her  son,  the  httle  archer  Cupid. 
It  was  Cupid's  office  to  shoot  the  arrows  of  affection. 
Being  a  mischievous  fellow,  he  took  delight  in  aim- 
ing his  shafts  at  the  unsuspecting.  Often  his  vic- 
tims were  so  oddly  chosen  that  it  seemed  as  if  the 
marksman  had  shot  at  random.  Some  believed  that 
he  did  his  work  blindfolded. 

The  poets  describe  Cupid  as  a  beautiful  winged 
boy  carrying  a  bow  and  a  quiver  of  arrows,  and 
sometirfies  a  torch.  He  flew  at  will  through  the 
wqde  universe,  but  he  loved  best  the  island  of  Cyprus, 
which  was  his  mother's  first  liome.  "  His  head  has 
goodly  curls,"  wrote  Moschus,^  "  but  impudent  is 
the  face  he  wears  ;  his  little  hands  are  tiny,  't  is  true, 
yet  they  shoot  far.  .  .  .  Small  is  his  arrow,  yet  it 
carries  even  to  the  sky.  .  .  .  He  is  naked  indeed,  so 
far  as  his  body  is  concerned,  but  his  mind  is  shrouded. 
And  being  Avinged  as  a  bird  he  flies  upon  now  one 
party  of  men  and  women  and  now  another,  and 
settles  on  their  inmost  hearts." 

J  In  the  first  idyl,  translated  by  J.  Bank. 


86  CORREGGIO 

The  mingled  pain  and  delight  caused  by  a  wound 
of  love  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  Cupid's  arrows 
were  tipped  with  gall  and  honey.  The  Avay  in  which 
they  were  fashioned  is  variously  described  by  the 
poets.  Anacreon  has  it  that  they  were  made  at 
the  forge  of  Vulcan,  the  husband  of  Venus,  and  the 
blacksmith  of  the  gods.  One  of  this  poet's  odes 
relates  how  — 

"In  the  Leniiiian  caves  of  fire 
The  mate  of  her  wlio  nursed  Desire 
Moulded  the  glowing  steel  to  form 
Arrows  for  Cupid  thrilling  warm; 
While  Venus  every  barb  imbues 
With  droppings  of  her  honeyed  dews; 
And  Love  (alas  the  victim  heart) 
Tinges  with  gall  the  burning  dart."  ^ 

A  slightly  different  exj^jlanation  is  given  by  the 
Latin  poet  Claudian  :  — 

"  In  Cyprus'  isle  two  rippling  fountains  fall 
And  one  with  honey  flows,  and  one  with  gall; 
In  these,  if  we  may  take  the  tale  from  fame, 
The  son  of  Venus  dips  his  darts  of  flame." 

HoAvever  the  story  may  run,  there  is  but  one  end- 
ing. The  victim  of  the  love-god's  arrow  confesses 
that  "  loving  is  a  painful  thrill,"  but  "  not  to  love, 
more  painful  still." 

So  bold  was  the  little  archer  that  the  mightiest 
could  not  withstand  his  arts.  The  war-god  Mars, 
bringing  his  spear  one  day  to  Vulcan's  forge,  smiled 
contemptuously  at  the  light  shafts  of  Cupid.  "  Try 
it,"  said  little  Love,  handing  him  one.  Whereupon 
the  foolish  fellow  cried  out  in  an  agony  of  pain,  and 

^  In  Moore's  translation. 


■■Ji 
< 
•a 

< 

Q 

b 
O 


< 

H 

W 
Q 

C/} 

O 

< 


w     Sj 


o 

S 
w 
a, 
Pi 
< 


Us 


"o 


"55 


CUPID   SHARPENING   HIS   ARROWS  89 

begged  Cupid  to  take  the  arrow  back.  Apollo,  the 
archer  of  the  sun,  was  equally  imprudent,  and  was 
richly  punished  for  his  sneers.  An  arrow  from  the 
fatal  quiver  made  him  mad  with  unrequited  love  for 
the  nymph  Daphne.  A  being  who  could  give  so 
much  pain  and  pleasure  was  at  once  to  be  loved  and 
feared.     Hence  all  paid  homage  — 

"  To  Love,  for  lieaven  and  earth  adore  him 
And  gods  and  mortals  bow  before  him." 

In  our  picture,  Cupid  looks  just  as  the  poets  have 
described  him,  a  beautiful  baby  boy  with  wings  and 
"  goodly  curls."  Only  the  milk  and  honey  of  Cy- 
prus could  have  made  the  little  body  so  plump.  A 
deep  crease  marks  the  line  of  his  wrist,  a  soft  fold  of 
flesh  the  neck.  The  full  quiver  lies  on  the  table 
beside  him,  and  he  is  sharpening  one  of  the  darts.^ 
A  little  companion  helps  him  hold  the  whetstone 
steady  while  he  presses  the  arrow  tip  upon  its  sur- 
face.    Some  lines  of  Horace  come  to  mind  describ- 


ing 


"  Cupid  sharpenuig  all  his  fiery  darts 
Upon  a  whetstone  stained  with  blood  of  hearts." 

Cupid's  companion  is  as  like  him  as  a  twin,  save 
that  he  has  no  wings.  He  may  be  a  human  play- 
fellow of  the  little  god,  or  one  of  the  brood  of  loves 
with  which  the  poets  have  peopled  Cyprus.  While 
the  original  myth  told  of  only  one  Cupid,  imagina- 
tion has  multiplied  his  kind.  We  read  of  the  "  play- 
ful rout  of  Cupids  "  attendant  upon  the  love-god, 
who  rules  as  sovereion  amono-  them. 

^  Vasari  says  that  Cupid  is  trying  the  arrow  on  a  stone. 


90  CORREGGIO 

The  two  children  of  the  picture  are  intent  upon 
their  task.  The  very  seriousness  of  their  manner 
argues  some  mischief  in  view.  Evidently  they  are 
preparing  for  a  great  conquest.  The  arrow  must 
not  fail  of  its  work,  but  must  be  sharp  enough  to 
carry  the  sweet  poison  straight  to  the  victim's  heart. 

Both  of  the  chubby  fellows  have  rather  large  heads 
with  clustering  ringlets.  The  wingless  boy  has  the 
high,  full  forehead  which  marks  an  active  mind. 
Cupid  seems  to  have  the  more  energetic  temperament 
of  the  two,  while  his  comrade  is  a  bit  of  a  dreamer. 

Our  picture  is  a  charming  illustration  of  Correg- 
gio's  love  of  children.  As  it  was  not  the  fashion  of 
his  time  to  paint  children's  portraits,  he  had  to  make 
his  own  opportunities  for  the  favorite  subject.  How 
inoenious  he  was  we  have  had  occasion  to  see  in  oui 
study.  When  given  a  sacred  subject  to  paint  he 
filled  all  the  available  spaces  with  child  angels  sport- 
inof  iu  the  clouds.  With  the  ceilino;-  of  a  room  to 
decorate,  he  covered  the  whole  surface  with  a  band 
of  little  boys  at  play. 

Our  reproduction  is  a  detail  of  a  larger  picture 
illustrating  the  myth  of  Danae.  The  two  little  figures 
are  in  the  lower  right  corner  of  the  canvas. 


XVI 

A  SUPPOSED  PORTRAIT  OF  CORREGGIO 

Almost  every  celebrated  painter  has  at  some  time 
in  his  Hfe  sat  for  his  portrait.  Many  have  painted 
their  own  hkenesses,  not  so  much  from  motives  of 
vanity,  but  as  a  matter  of  artistic  interest.  Others 
have  posed  as  models  to  their  fellow  jjainters. 

Correggio  was  an  exception  in  this  regard.  The 
old  biographer  Vasari  made  many  efforts  to  procure 
a  portrait,  and  concluded  that  "  he  never  took  it 
himself,  nor  ever  had  it  taken  by  others,  seeing  that 
he  lived  much  in  retirement." 

Our  painter,  as  we  have  seen,  was  not  a  student 
of  the  face.  Form  and  expression  did  not  greatly 
interest  him.  He  busied  himself  chiefly  with  pro- 
blems (jf  light  and  shade.  This  is  perhaps  the  reason 
why  he  never  thought  it  worth  while  to  paint  his 
portrait.  He  was  not  a  traveller,  and  probably  never 
visited  any  of  the  great  art  centres  of  his  time.  So 
he  made  no  friends  among  the  contemporary  painters 
who  would  have  been  likely  to  make  his  portrait.  In 
any  case  his  busy  life  left  little  time  for  any  work 
for  himself,  and  if  he  thought  at  all  of  a  portrait, 
he  doubtless  postponed  it  to  some  more  convenient 
season.  Waiting  for  such  a  time,  his  career  was 
brought  suddenly  to  an  end.  He  died  of  fever  in 
Correggio  at  the  age  of  forty. 


92  CORREGGIO 

In  the  passing  centuries  one  picture  after  another 
has  been  put  forward  as  a  pretended  portrait  of  Cor= 
reggio.  The  painter's  admirers  were  always  eager 
to  beUeve  that  a  real  likeness  had  at  last  been  dis- 
covered. Though  we  cannot  rely  upon  the  genuine- 
ness of  any  of  these,  some  are  very  interesting. 

Such  an  one  is  our  frontispiece,  from  a  paint- 
ing  in  the  Parma  Gallery,  pointed  out  as  Correg- 
gio's  portrait.  Whoever  the  original  may  have  been, 
the  expression  is  certainly  animated  and  intelligent. 
There  is  much  humor  and  kindliness  in  the  face. 
The  unknown  artist  should  have  the  credit  for  the 
gift  of  revealing  the  individual  character  of  his 
sitter. 

Lacking  an  authentic  portrait  of  the  man  Correg- 
gio,  we  have  to  content  ourselves  with  the  short 
account  of  his  character  given  by  Vasari.  "  He  was 
a  person,"  writes  the  biographer,  "  who  held  himself 
in  but  slight  esteem,  nor  could  he  ever  persuade 
himself  that  he  knew  anything  satisfactorily  respect- 
ing his  art ;  perceiving  its  difiiculties,  he  could  not 
give  himself  credit  for  approaching  the  perfection 
to  which  he  would  so  fain  have  seen  it  carried ;  he 
was  a  man  who  contented  himself  with  very  little, 
and  always  lived  in  the  manner  of  a  good  Chris' 
tian." 


I 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY  OF  PROPER  NAMES 
AND  FOREIGN  WORDS 


The  Diacritical  Marljs  given  are  those  found  in  tlie  latest  edition  of  Webster's  Inter- 
national Dictionary. 

EXPLANATION   OF   DIACRITICAL   MARKS. 

A  Dash  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  long  sound,  as  in  fate,  eve,  time,  note,  use. 

A  Dash  and  a  Dot  C)  above  the  vowel  denote  the  same  sound,  less  prolonged. 

A  Curve  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  short  sound,  as  in  5dd,  end.  Til,  o<lil,  iip. 

A  Dot  ( ■ )  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  obscure  sound  of  a  in  past,  abate,  America 

A  Double  Dot  (  )  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  broad  sound  of  a  in  fiither,  alms. 

A  Double  Dot  (,.)  below  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  sound  of  a  in  ball. 

A  Wave  (~)  above  the  vowel  e  denotes  the  sound  of  e  in  her. 

A  Circumflex  Accent  (^)  above  the  vowel  o  denotes  the  sound  of  o  in  born. 

A  dot  ( . )  below  the  vowel  u  denotes  the  sound  of  u  in  the  French  language. 

N  indicates  that  the  preceding  vowel  has  the  French  nasal  tone. 

o  and  K  denote  the  guttural  sound  of  ch  in  the  German  language. 

til  denotes  tlie  sound  of  th  in  the,  this. 

^  sounds  like  S. 

-c  sounds  like  k. 

g  sounds  like  z. 

g  is  hard  as  in  get. 

g  is  soft  as  in  gem. 


Allegri  (al-la'gre). 

Altius  cajteris   Dei  patefecit  arcana 

(al'te-oo?"  ki'ta-rss   da'e   pa-ta-fii'- 

kit  ,T,r-ka'na). 
Ambrose  (ani'broz). 
Anacreon  (an-ak'r5-oii). 
Antonio  (iin-to'ne-o). 
Apollo  (a-pol'lo). 
Aphrodite  (af-ro-dl'te). 
Artemis  (ar'te-mis). 
Ai'imathea  (ar-i-m;\-the';i). 
Athena  (a-the'na). 
Augn.stine  (a'gus-ten). 
Aurora  (a-ro'ra). 
Austin  (as' tin). 

Bayliss,  Wyke  (wik  b.^'lfe). 
Beth'lehem. 
Berenson  (ba'ren-son). 
Blashfield  (blash'feld). 
Burckhardt  (bclork'hiirt). 


CaBsar  (se'zar). 

candelabrum  (kan-de-la'briim) 

Carthage  (kJir'thaj). 

Catherine  (kath'?r-in). 

C.'ixton  (kaks'tun). 

Cavaliere  (ka-va-le-a'r,i). 

chiaroscuro  (kyii-ro-skrio'ro). 

Cicerone  'ehe-cha-ro'na). 

Claudian  (da'di-an). 

Correggio  (kor-red'jo). 

Costns  (ko.s'tus). 

C'o7iius  (ko'mus). 

Cupid. 

Cyprus  (si'prus). 

Dalmatian  (d.al-ma'shan). 
Danae  idil  na-e). 
Daphne  (daf'ne). 
Diana  (di-an'a  or  dl-a'na). 

Ecce  Homo  (ek'ke  or  ek'se  ho'mo). 


94 


CORREGGIO 


Egypt  (e'jipt). 
Endymion  (en-dim'i-un) 
Ephesus  (et'e-sus). 
Ezekiel  (e-ze'ki-el). 

Galilee  (gal'i-le). 

Gionio,  11  (el  jor'no). 

Giovanni   Evangelista    (j6-van'ne   a- 

van-ja-les'ta). 
Guido  Reni  (gwe'do  ra'ne). 

Haz'litt. 

Heilige  Nacht-  (hi'leo-u  naKt). 

Ileaton  (he'tun). 

Her'od. 

Hes'pgrus. 

Hip'po. 

Horace  (hor'as). 

Igneni  gladio  ne  fodias  (eg'nem  gla'- 

de-o  na  fo'de-as). 
Israel  (iz'ra-el). 

Jameson  (ja'me-sun). 

Jerome  (je-rom'  or  jer'um), 

Jeru'salem. 

Jor'dan. 

Judaea  (ju-de'a). 

Keats  (kets). 
Kugler  (kooG'lgr). 

Lay'ard. 
Lem'nian. 

Madon'na. 

Magdalene  (mag'da-len). 

Mareella  (miir-sel'a). 

Matthew  (ma'thu). 

Mater  Dolorosa  (ma't6r  dol-6-ro'sa  or 

ma' tar  do-lo-ro'.sa). 
Maxentius  (maks-en'shi-us). 
Marg. 

Meyer  (mi'6r). 

Michelangelo  (me-kel-an'ja-lo). 
Milan  (rail'an  or  ml-lan'). 
Mon'ica. 

Moore  (mor  or  moor). 
Moschus  (mos'kns). 
Morelli  (mo-rel'e). 


Naz'areth. 

Nicodemus  (nik-o-de'mus). 

Noli  me  tangere  (no'le  ma  tan'ga-rS 

or  no'li  me  tan'je-re). 
Notte,  La  (la  not'ta). 
NiimTd'ia. 

Pal'estinc 

Pa'olo. 

Par'mji. 

Pat'mos. 

Paula  (pa'la). 

Pharisee  (far'i-se). 

Piaeenza  (pe-a-chen'dza). 

Pla'to. 

Pontius  Pilate  (pon'shi-iis  pi'lat). 

putti  (poot'te). 

Rabbi3'ni. 

Raphael  (rii'fa-el). 

Rex  Regum  (raks  ra'gobm). 

Ricci,  Corrado  (kor-ra'do  ret'che). 

Rus'kin. 

Sala  del  Pergolato  (sa'la  del  pair-go 

la' to). 
Scipione  Montino   (she-pe-o'na  mon 

te'no). 
iSeodella  (sko-del'lii). 
Sebastian  (se-bast/yan). 
Siranionds  (sim'undz). 
fSynionds  (sim'iindz). 
.Syria  (sir'i-a). 

Te  Deum  (ta  dJi'oom  or  te  de'iim) 
Titan  (ti'tan). 
Titian  (tish'an). 

Umbrian  (um'bri-an). 

Vasari  (va-sii're). 

Ve'nus. 

Vere,  Aubrey  de  (a'bri  de  ver), 

Vul'can. 

Vul'gate, 

Wordsworth  (wgrdz'wSrth). 

Zeb'edee. 


VAN   DYCK 
1599-1641 


t'Jeuient  *  0»>» 

PORTRAIT   OF   VAN    DYCK 
Prado  Gallery,  Madrid 


PORTRAIT    OF   ANNA    WAKE 

The  city  of  Antwerp  was  at  one  time  famous  for 
its  commercial  and  industrial  interests,  and  it  was 
besides  an  important  centre  of  art.  Here  in  the 
seventeenth  century  lived  the  two  foremost  Flemish 
painters,  Peter  Paul  Rubens,  and  Anthony  Van 
Dyck.  The  Flemish  industries  had  chiefly  to  do 
with  the  makinof  of  beautiful  thinp's.  Amono-  them 
were  tapestries  in  rich  designs  and  many  colors,  used 
for  wall  hanoino-s.  The  Flemish  weavers  were  also 
skilled  in  makinof  fabrics  of  silk  and  velvet.  Most 
fanious  of  all  were  their  laces,  patiently  wrought 
by  hand,  on  pillows,  and  unrivalled  throughout  the 
world  "for  delicacy  of  workmanship.  Glass  and 
porcelain  were  also  among  their  industrial  products. 
In  Antwerp,  too,  was  the  printing  estabhshment  of 
Plantin,  from  which  issued  many  learned  works  in 
French  and  Latin. 

Among  refined  people  like  these,  who  not  only 
loved  beautiful  things  but  could  afford  to  buy  them, 
the  art  of  painting  was  highly  esteemed.  There 
was  every  encouragement  for  a  young  artist  to 
pursue  this  calling.  Rubens  was  already  a  great 
painter  when  Van  Dyck  began  his  art  studies,  and  the 
older  man  gave  the  younger  much  helpful  advice. 


2  VAN   DYCK 

At  bis  friend's  sug-gestion  Van  Dyck  travelled  sev- 
eral years  in  Italy,  where  he  was  inspired  by  the 
works  of  the  Italian  masters  of  the  preceding  cen- 
tury. Returning"  at  length  to  his  native  city,  he  set 
up  a  studio  of  his  own,  and  soon  became  a  favorite 
portrait  painter  among-  the  rich  and  fashionable 
classes.  Not  a  few  of  his  sitters  were  foreign  so- 
journers in  the  Netherlands,  especially  the  English. 
The  lady  of  our  illustration  is  quite  plainly  of  this 
nationality,  though  she  is  dressed  according  to  the 
Flemish  modes. 

It  appears  that  an  English  merchant  named  Wake 
was  established  in  Antwerp  at  this  time,  and  it  is 
supposed  that  this  may  be  his  daughter.  There  are 
also  reasons  for  connecting  the  portrait  with  one  of 
a  certain  English  baronet  named  Sheffield,  who  was 
likewise  in  Belgium  in  this  period.  Miss  Anna 
Wake,  we  may  conclude,  had  married  into  the  Shef- 
field family  Avhen  this  portrait  was  painted.  These 
names,  however,  are  mere  guesses,  and,  even  if  they 
were  verified,  would  tell  us  no  more  of  the  lady's 
story  than  we  can  gather  from  the  picture.  Her 
life  was  probably  not  of  the  eventful  kind  which 
passes  into  history.  The  luxuries  of  her  surround- 
ings we  may  judge  from  her  rich  dress  and  jewels  ; 
the  sweetness  of  her  character  is  written  in  her 
face. 

She  shows  us  perhaps  more  of  her  inner  life  than 
she  intends.  Her  fine  reserve  would  naturally  shrink 
from  any  sort  of  familiarity.  Yet  as  she  stands 
quietly  before  the  portrait  painter,  left,  as  it  were,  to 


i'"rom  carbon  priut.  l>y  llrauti,  Clement  Jl  Cu 


JuLii  Amirew  i  .'Mm,  Sc. 


PORTRArr   OF    ANNA   WAKE 
Royal  Gallery,  The  Hague 


PORTRAIT   OF  ANNA   WAKE  5 

the  solitude  of  her  own  thoughts,  her  spirit  seems 
to  look  out  of  the  candid  eyes. 

Her  dignity  and  self-possession  make  her  seem 
older  than  the  twenty-two  years  with  which  the 
inscription  on  the  portrait  credits  lier.  But  the 
face  is  that  of  one  who  has  just  passed  from  maid- 
enhood to  young  womanhood.  Life  lies  before  her, 
and  with  sweet  seriousness  she  builds  her  air  castles 
of  the  future.  Thus  far  she  has  been  carefully 
guarded  from  the  evil  of  the  world,  and  her  heart 
is  as  pure  as  that  of  "  the  lily  maid  of  Astolat."  For 
social  triumphs  she  would  care  nothing,  though  her 
beauty  could  not  fail  to  draw  an  admiring  throng 
about  her.  Vanity  and  coquetry  are  altogether 
foreign  to  her  nature.  She  is,  rather,  of  a  poetic 
and  dreamy  temperament.  Perhaps  it  is  the  fragile 
quality  of  her  beauty  which  gives  an  almost  wistful 
expression  to  the  face.  She  is  like  a  delicate  Hower 
Avhich  a  chill  wind  would  blast. 

The  "costume  interests  us  as  a  study  of  bygone 
fashions,  and  is  painted  with  exquisite  care  for  de- 
tail. The  pointed  bodice  is  as  stiff  as  a  coat  of 
mail,  like  that  so  long  in  vogue  at  the  court  of  Spain. 
Perhaps  the  Spanish  occupation  of  the  Netherlands 
may  have  brought  the  corset  with  it.  Certandy  it 
is  not  conducive  to  an  easy  carriage  :  only  a  grace- 
ful figure  like  this  could  wear  it  without  awkward- 
ness. The  slashed  sleeves  are  made  full,  and  tied 
at  the  elbows  witli  bows.  The  wide  collar  and  cuffs 
are  edged  with  beautiful  Flemish  lace  points.  The 
feather  fan  and  the  strings  of  pearls  about  the  throat 


6  VAN  DYCK 

aud  wrists  might  form  a  part  of  any  modern  cos- 
tume. It  strikes  us,  however,  as  a  very  singular 
fashion  for  a  lady  to  wear  a  large  seal  ring  on  the 
thumb. 

We  notice  how  simply  the  hair  is  dressed,  brushed 
loosely  from  the  face  and  knotted  at  the  back,  with 
a  jewel  gleaming  at  one  side.  Compared  with  the 
elaborate  coiffures  worn  by  great  ladies  in  some  his- 
torical periods,  this  style  is  delightfully  artistic.  Al- 
together the  entire  manner  of  dressing  is  perfectly 
suited  to  the  wearer. 


II 


THE    REST    IX    EGYPT 

We  often  read  in  history  of  the  rejoicing  through- 
out a  kingdom  over  the  birth  of  a  prince  :  messengers 
are  sent  from  place  to  place  to  proclaim  the  glad 
news,  congratulations  and  gifts  follow,  every  possi- 
ble care  is  taken  for  the  nurture  and  protection  of 
the  precious  young  life. 

The  story  of  the  childhood  of  Jesus  reads  some- 
what like  that  of  a  prince,  in  spite  of  his  lowly  sur- 
roundings. Thouo'li  he  was  born  in  a  niano;er,  a 
herald  angel  announced  the  glad  tidings  of  his  com- 
ing. Though  the  people  of  Bethlehem  took  no  note 
of  the  event,  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host  sang 
"  Glory  "to  God  in  the  highest,  on  earth  peace,  good- 
Avill  to  men."  Wise  men  from  the  East  made  a  long 
journey  to  find  the  young  child.  The  lore  of  the 
stars  had  taught  them  that  he  was  a  king,  and  they 
brought  gifts  worthy  of  royalty,  gold,  and  frankin- 
cense, and  myrrh. 

It  was  these  visitors  who  were  the  innocent  cause 
of  the  child's  first  danger.  In  seeking  him  out  they 
had  gone  to  King  Herod  at  Jerusalem,  asking, 
"Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the  Jews?" 
These  inquiries  made  the  monarch  very  uneasy.  He 
had  no   mind   to  lose  his  crown.     To  prevent  the 


8  VAN  DYCK 

appearance  of  any  possible  rival  he  determined  upon 
summary  measures.  "  He  sent  forth  and  slew  all 
the  children  that  were  in  Bethlehem,  and  in  all  the 
coasts  thereof,  from  two  years  old  and  under."  By 
this  terrible  massacre  he  thought  to  do  away  with 
the  child  Jesus. 

But  the  Prince  of  Peace  was  protected  by  stronger 
guards  than  ever  surrounded  the  cradle  of  an  earthly 
prince.  A  warning  message  was  sent  to  save  the 
chikl  from  the  impending  danger.  •'  The  angel  of 
the  Lord  appeareth  to  Joseph  in  a  dream,  saying, 
Arise,  and  take  the  young  child  and  his  mother, 
and  flee  into  Egypt,  and  be  thou  there  until  I  bring 
thee  word :  for  Herod  will  seek  the  young  child  to 
destroy  him." 

"  When  he  arose,  he  took  the  young  child  and  his 
mother  by  night,  and  departed  into  Egypt."  ^  The 
journey  was  long  and  wearisome,  but  the  mother 
Mary  was  young,  and  strong  in  courage,  and  Joseph 
was  a  sturdy  defender.  As  for  the  babe,  what  mat- 
tered it  to  him  whether  he  slept  in  a  manger,  or 
under  the  trees  by  the  wayside?  He  was  safe  in  his 
mother's  arms. 

What  adventures  befell  them  by  the  way  we  do 
not  know,  but  we  like  to  imagine  the  incidents  of 
the  journey.  There  is  a  tradition  that  angel  play-  . 
fellows  came  from  time  to  time  to  amuse  the  child 
Jesus.  When  Mary  and  Joseph  were  forced  to 
pause  a  little  while  for  food  and  rest,  the  lonely 
places  were  filled  with  these  glad  presences. 

^  St.  Matthew,  chapter  ii.,  verses  13,  14. 


Oh 

o 


C  ^ 


THE   REST  IN  EGYPT  11 

This  is  the  legend  illustrated  in  our  picture. 
Under  the  sj)reading  branches  of  a  great  tree,  Mary 
has  found  a  comfortable  seat  on  a  grassy  bank,  and 
Joseph  rests  behind  her.  The  little  child  stands  on 
his  mother's  knee,  clinging  to  her  dress  for  support, 
while  her  arms  hold  him  firm.  A  band  of  infant 
angels  play  on  the  flower-strewn  grass  in  the  open 
space  in  front.  With  joined  hands  they  circle  about 
as  in  the  figure  of  a  dance  or  game.  The  music  for 
their  sport  is  furnished  by  a  heavenly  choir,  hover- 
ing in  the  upper  air  and  singing  the  score  from  an 
open  book. 

The  leader  of  the  dance  is  evidently  the  beautiful 
angel  who  pauses  opposite  the  Christ-child.  Rest- 
ing on  the  right  foot  he  draws  back  the  left,  pois- 
ing on  his  toe,  in  an  attitude  of  exquisite  grace. 
With  his  left  hand  he  waves  a  salute  to  the  infant 
Christ.  His  right  hand  clasps  that  of  a  companion 
angel  to  form  an  arch  beneath  which  troop  the 
whole  jcTcund  company.  It  is  good  sport,  and  the 
players  scamper  gleefully  along.  A  single  angel 
stops  to  gaze  ardently  towards  the  Christ-child. 

The  mother  looks  on  at  the  game  with  queenly 
dignity.  A  smile  hovers  on  her  lips,  as  if  the  eager- 
ness of  the  little  leader  pleased  her.  As  for  Joseph, 
his  glance  is  directed  towards  the  tree-tops.  Per- 
haps his  senses  are  not  fine  enough  to  discern  the 
spirit  company,  but  he  is  well  content  with  the  hap- 
piness of  mother  and  child. 

From  the  safe  pedestal  of  his  mother's  knee  the 
child  Jesus  watches  every  motion  of  the  angels  with 


12  VAN  DYCK 

breathless  interest.  The  angel  leader  seems  to 
beckon  him  to  join  them,  and  he  is  almost  ready 
to  go.  Yet  the  firm  hands  hold  him  back,  and  he  is 
glad  to  cling  to  his  mother's  dress.  A  circle  of 
light  about  his  head  is  the  halo,  or  symbol  of  his 
divine  origin. 

The  picture  is  an  important  record  of  our  paint- 
er's travels  in  Italy.  It  was  here  he  imbibed  from 
the  old  Italian  masters  the  tender  and  devotional 
spirit  which  animated  their  sacred  works.  Titian  was 
the  special  object  of  his  admiration,  and  he  painted 
a  number  of  Madonna  pictures  which  show  the  in- 
fluence the  Venetian  painter  had  upon  his  art. 
The  circle  of  dancing  angels  recalls  the  cherub 
throng  of  Titian's  Assumption.^ 

^  See   Chapter   XII.   in  volume  on  Titian  in   the  Riverside  Art 
Series. 


Ill 


THE    SO-CALLED    PORTRAIT    OF    RICHARDOT    AND    HIS 

SON 

A  GENTLEMAN  has  brought  his  little  boy  to  our 
painter's  studio  for  a  portrait  sitting.  Father  and 
son  are  close  friends  and  understand  each  other  well. 
On  the  way  they  have  talked  of  the  picture  that  is 
to  be  made,  and  the  boy  has  asked  many  questions 
about  it.  It  is  rather  a  tedious  prospect  to  an  ac- 
tive child  to  have  to  sit  still  a  long  time.  But  liis 
father's  companionship  is  his  greatest  delight,  and 
it  is  a  rare  treat  to  both  to  have  a  whole  morninof 
together.  Besides,  they  have  a  book  with  them,  a 
new  publication  from  the  Plantin  printing  press,  and 
the  father  has  promised  to  read  something  to  him. 

The  two  are  richly  dressed  for  the  event,  the 
father  in  black  with  a  fur  mantle,  and  the  boy  in 
white  satin  embroidered  with  «:old.  The  man  wears 
the  stiff  quilled  ruff  of  the  period,  the  boy  a  round 
collar  of  soft  lace.  It  is  not  every  day  in  the  year 
that  a  little  boy  is  allowed  to  wear  his  best  satin 
doublet,  and  the  child  feels  the  gravity  of  the  occa- 
sion. We  may  suppose  that  these  are  people  of  dis- 
tinction, and  that  on  certain  great  occasions  the  boy 
accompanies  his  father  to  court.  Perhaps,  too,  as 
the  eldest  son  of  the  house,  he  is  sometimes  given  a 


14  VAN  DYCK 

seat  at  a  great  banquet,  or  is  brought  into  the  tap- 
estried hall  to  meet  an  honored  guest.  It  is  at  such 
times  that  he  would  be  dressed  as  in  the  picture. 
In  our  own  day  a  child's  finery  brings  to  mind  dan- 
cing classes  and  parties,  but  in  these  far  away  times 
it  is  associated  only  with  stately  ceremonies. 

The  painter  has  led  his  guests  to  a  place  near  a 
window,  where,  looking  over  their  shoulders,  one  sees 
a  bit  of  pleasant  country.  The  man  draws  the  boy 
towards  him  and  lays  one  hand  on  the  child's  shoul- 
der. At  the  painter's  bidding,  the  little  fellow  puts 
his  right  arm  akimbo,  imitating  the  attitude  in  some 
of  the  portraits  of  the  studio.  The  pose  suits  per- 
fectly the  quaint  dignity  of  the  little  figure. 

It  is  a  proud  moment  for  the  boy.  It  makes  him 
almost  a  man  to  be  treated  as  an  equal  by  his  father. 
Not  for  worlds  would  he  do  anything  to  spoil  the 
picture  ;  he  feels  the  responsibility  of  carrying  out 
his  part  well.  He  regards  the  painter  with  solemn 
eyes,  watching  intently  every  motion  of  the  pencil. 

There  is  a  gleam  of  humor  in  the  father's  eyes  as 
he  too  looks  in  the  same  direction.  He  is  a  man  of 
large  affairs,  we  are  sure.  His  high  forehead  shows 
rare  mental  powers,  and  he  has  the  judicial  expres- 
sion of  one  whose  counsel  would  be  worth  following. 
Yet  there  is  that  in  his  face  which  shows  the  quiet 
tastes  of  the  scholar.  With  his  boy  beside  him  and 
a  book  in  his  hand,  he  is  content  to  let  the  great 
world  go  its  way.  Nevertheless  he  is  something  of 
a  courtier,  as  his  station  in  life  requires,  a  distin- 
guished figure  in  any  great  company.     The  face  is 


Fan  Dyck. 


'The  Louvre^  Parti, 


THE    SO-CALLED    PORTRAIT    OF    RICHARDOT    AND    HIS    SON 


SO-CALLED  PORTRAIT  OF  RICHARDOT  AND  SOX    17 

one  of  striking  nobility  of  character.  He  is  a  man 
in  whom  we  conld  phice  great  confidence. 

Two  qualities  of  the  portrait  give  it  artistic  vahie, 
hfe-likeness,  and  character.  The  figures  ahnost  seem 
to  speak  to  us  from  the  canvas,  and  we  feel  a  sense 
of  intimacy  with  them,  as  if  we  had  actually  known 
them  in  real  life.  Indeed  there  is  very  little  in  the 
picture  to  make  it  seem  foreign  to  our  own  sur- 
roundino's.  The  stifP  ruff  is  the  most  distinctlv  old- 
fashioned  feature.  The  man's  closely  cut  pointed 
beard  is  such  as  has  long  been  called  the  "  Van 
Dyck  beard."  The  painter  wore  his  own  trimmed 
in  the  same  way,  which  seems  at  one  time  to  have 
been  equally  the  fashion  in  England  and  on  the 
continent. 

We  remark  in  the  picture  the  excellent  character- 
ization of  the  hands.  In  later  days  when  the  painter 
was  busier,  he  often  assigned  this  part  of  the  work 
to  assistants.  They  did  not  try  to  reproduce  the 
hand  of  the  portrait  sitter,  but  painted  this  feature 
from  a  model.  Now  this  man's  hand  is  plainly  his 
own  ;  it  is  of  a  character  with  the  face,  strong  and 
sensitive. 

The  lajidscape  view  is  an  important  element  in 
the  picture.  If  we  compare  our  illustration  with 
others  wdiich  have  no  such  setting,  we  shall  better 
understand  its  value.  An  enclosed  space  sets  a  more 
or  less  definite  limit  to  the  imagination.  A  glimpse 
of  the  countrv,  on  the  other  hand,  sugfS'ests  wide 
spaces  for  the  fancy  to  explore.  It  will  also  be  no- 
ticed that  this  light  spot  in  the  upper  right  corner 


18  VAN   DYCK 

balances  well  the  white  costume  of  the  boy  in  the 
lower  left  corner. 

The  portrait  group  of  our  illustration  has  long 
borne  the  title  of  Jean  Grusset  Richardot  and  his 
Son.  This  Richardot  was  a  celebrated  Flemish 
diplomat  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  president  of 
the  Privy  Council  of  the  Low  Countries.  As  he 
died  in  Van  Dyck's  boyhood,  his  portrait  could  not 
have  been  made  by  our  painter  directly  from  Hfe. 
Nor  can  we  believe  with  some  that  years  after  the 
diplomat's  death  Van  Dyck  copied  from  some  old 
picture  the  likeness  seen  here.  A  portrait  painted 
in  this  way  would  not  have  the  vitality  of  our  illus- 
tration. We  are  therefore  obliged  to  consider  the 
picture  nameless ;  but  our  enjoyment  of  its  good 
qualities  is  by  no  means  less  keen. 


IV 


THE    VISION    OF    ST.    ANTHONY 

St.  Anthony  of  Padua  was  a  Franciscan  friar  of 
the  tliirteentli  century,  celebrated  for  his  piety  and 
eloquence.  He  was  a  Portuguese  by  birth,  and  early 
in  life  determined  to  be  a  Christian  missionary.  His 
first  labors  were  in  Africa,  but  being-  seized  by  a 
lingering  illness,  he  returned  to  Europe  and  landed 
in  Italy.  Here  he  came  under  the  influence  of  St. 
Francis  of  Assisi,  who  was  just  establishing  a  new 
religious  order.  The  rules  were  to  be  very  strict : 
the  members  could  possess  nothing"  of  their  own,  but 
were  to  beg;  their  food  and  raiment  of  fellow  Chris- 
tians.  They  were  to  mingle  with  the  people  as  bro- 
thers, hence  fi'i((rs,^  ministering  to  their  bodily 
needs,  and  adyising,  comforting,  and  admonishing 
in  higher  concerns.  What  sort  of  a  habit  they 
wore  we  may  see  in  our  picture.  There  was  a  long 
dark  brown  tunic  made  with  loose  sleeves,  and  hav- 
ino;  a  sort  of  hood  attached.  The  orarment  Avas 
fastened  about  the  waist  with  a  knotted  rope.  By 
this  strange  girdle  the  wearer  was  continually  re- 
minded that  the  body  is  a  beast  to  be  subdued  by  a 
halter. 

On  account  of  his  learning',  St.  Anthony  became 

1  From  the  French /rtre. 


20  VAN  DYCK 

a  teacher  of  theology.  He  was  connected  succes- 
sively with  the  universities  of  Bologna,  Toulouse, 
Paris,  and  Padua,  and  with  this  last  city  his  name 
has  ever  since  been  associated.  At  length,  however, 
he  forsook  all  other  employments  and  devoted  him- 
self wholly  to  preaching  among  the  people. 

These  were  troublous  times  in  Italy,  when  the 
poor  were  cruelly  oppressed  by  the  rich.  St.  An- 
thony esj)Oused  the  cause  of  those  wdio  were 
wronged,  and  denounced  all  forms  of  tyranny. 
His  influence  was  a  great  power  among  the  people, 
and  many  stories  are  told  of  his  preaching.  It  is 
related  that  one  day,  as  he  was  explaining  to  his 
hearers  the  mystery  of  the  Incarnation,  the  Christ- 
child  appeared  to  him  as  in  a  vision. 

It  is  this  story  which  the  painter  had  in  mind  in 
our  picture  :  St.  Anthony  kneels  before  the  mother 
and  babe  in  an  ecstasy  of  devotion.  An  open  book 
lies  on  the  ground  beside  him,  as  if  he  had  been 
conning  its  pages  when  the  vision  broke  upon  him. 
The  landscape  surroundings  are  especially  appropri- 
ate, for  St.  Anthony  was  fond  of  out-of-door  life. 
His  sermons  were  often  given  in  the  open  air,  and  it 
is  said  that  he  sometimes  preached  to  the  fishes. 
He  delighted  to  point  out  to  his  hearers  the  beauties 
of  nature,  the  whiteness  of  the  swan,  the  mutual 
charity  of  the  storks,  and  the  purity  and  fragrance 
of  the  lilies. 

The  poetic  refinement  of  his  nature  is  indicated 
in  his  face.  He  is  young  and  handsome,  with  the 
gentle  expression  which  used  to  win  the  hearts  of 


Alinari,  photo 


Joho  AoJrew  i  Son,  So. 


THE   VISION  OF   ST.    ANTHONY 

Br  era  Gallery,  Milan 


THE   VISION   OF   ST.   ANTHONY  23 

his  hearers.  There  is  Httle  here  to  show  the  more 
forcible  elements  of  his  character.  The  tonsured 
head  is  the  common  mark  of  membership  in  rehgious 
orders. 

The  Christ-child  bends  forward  to  caress  the 
saint's  face  with  his  tiny  hand.  He  is  a  loving  little 
fellow,  not  particularly  pretty,  except  in  his  infan- 
tine plumpness,  yet  the  face  is  full  of  innocent 
sweetness.  A  mysterious  light  shines  above  his 
head,  the  emblem  of  divinity.  The  good  friar  does 
not  presume  to  touch  the  holy  child,  but  folds  his 
hands  reverently  across  his  breast.  His  eyes  are 
lifted  with  the  rapt  look  of  the  visionary. 

St.  Anthony's  biographers  tell  us  how  he  loved  to 
recite  the  old  Latin  hymn  by  St.  Fortunatus,  begin- 
ning, — 

O  Gloriosa  Domina 
Excelsa  super  sydera. 
[O  most  glorious  Lady 
P^xalted  above  the  stars.] 

We  ma;f  fancy  that  in  the  ecstasy  of  this  vision  these 
lines  now  rise  to  his  lips.  The  last  stanza  expresses 
the  sum  of  his  adoration  :  — 

Gloria  tibi  Domine 

Qui  uatus  es  de  Virgine 

Cum  Patre  et  saucto  Spiritu 

In  sempiterna  saecula. 
[Glory  to  thee,  O  Lord, 
Wlio  wast  born  of  a  Virgin, 
With  the  Fatlier  and  Holy  Spirit 
For  eternal  ages.] 

It  is  easy  to  see  from  a  comparison  of  this  })icture 
with  the  Rest  in  Egypt  that  it  was  painted  at  about 


24  VAN   DYCK 

the  same  time.  We  at  once  recognize  the  mother 
and  child  of  the  other  illustration,  and  note  the 
similarity  in  pose.  We  may  imagine  the  Madonna 
bendinof  forward  and  holdinof  the  babe  a  little  lower 
on  her  lap,  and  we  should  have  the  grouping  as  it 
is  here. 

In  their  pictures  of  the  Madonna,  the  old  painters 
tried  to  express  their  highest  ideals  of  womanhood. 
The  mother  Mary  represented  to  them  all  that  is 
strongest  and  sweetest  in  a  woman's  character.  So 
this  Madonna  by  Van  Dyck  is  a  gracious  and 
queenly  figure  modelled  upon  the  stately  Virgin  of 
Titian. 

The  linear  composition  of  the  picture  is  carefully 
planned  ;  the  basis  is  the  pyramidal  form.  From 
the  top  of  the  Virgin's  head  diverge  the  two  oblique 
lines  which  enclose  the  diagram.  The  mantle  flut- 
tering behind  the  mother's  shoulder  balances  the 
part  of  St.  Anthony's  tunic  which  lies  on  the 
ground. 

We  may  well  believe  that  the  painter  took  espe- 
cial pleasure  in  working  on  this  picture,  because  he 
himself  bore  the  name  of  the  good  St.  Anthony. 


V 


MADAME      ANDREAS       COLYNS     DE      NODE     AND     HER 

DAUGHTER 

In  the  time  of  Van  Dyck  there  was  living  in  Ant- 
werp a  family  of  ancient  lineage  who  bore  the  name 
of  Colyns  de  Nole.  For  three  centuries  there  had 
been  sculptors  among  the  men  of  this  name.  The 
talent  had  been  handed  down  from  father  to  son 
through  the  several  generations,  and  sometimes  there 
were  two  or  three  of  the  family  working  together 
in  the  art.  The  old  churches  of  Antwerp  jontained 
some  fine  sj^ecimens  of  their  work.^ 

Andreas  Colyns  de  Nole  was  of  nearly  the  same 
age  as  Van  Dyck,  and  a  worthy  representative  of  his 
famous  "family.  He  was  the  sculptor  of  the  beauti- 
ful monument  of  Henry  van  Balen  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Jaccpies,  and  of  a  Pietji  in  the  Church  of  Notre 
Dame.  The  sculptor  and  the  painter  became  good 
friends,  and  it  was  a  natural  consequence  that  the 
latter  should  paint  the  portrait  of  his  friend  and  of 
his  family.  He  made  two  companion  j)ictures,  one 
of  the  sculptor,  and  the  other  of  his  wife  and  the 
little  dauofhter. 

^  A  full  account  of  the  several  members  of  this  family  is  given  in 
the  Biographie  Natmmle,  published  by  the  Royal  Belgian  Academy 
of  Science,  Literature  and  Fine  Arts,  Brussels,  1899. 


26  VAN   DYCK 

The  lady  is  seated  in  an  arm-chair,  letting  her 
placid  glance  stray  across  the  room.  There  is  a 
little  touch  of  weariness  in  her  manner,  as  if  she 
were  glad  to  sit  down  for  a  few  moments'  rest.  She 
is  a  busy  housewife  and  mother,  with  many  domes- 
tic duties  on  her  mind.  In  her  strong,  capable  way 
she  has  lono'  borne  the  family  burdens.  The  face  is 
full  of  motherly  sweetness ;  the  expression  is  patient 
and  serene,  as  of  one  well  schooled  in  the  lessons 
of  life.  This  is  indeed  the  "  virtuous  woman " 
whose  price  the  wise  man  of  old  set  "  far  above 
rubies." 

"  She  openeth  her  mouth  with  Avisdom ;  and  in 
her  tongue  is  the  law  of  kindness.  She  looketh 
well  to  the  ways  of  her  household,  and  eateth  not 
the  bread  of  idleness.  Her  children  arise  up,  and 
call  her  blessed ;  her  husband  also,  and  he  praiseth 

her." ' 

The  child  is  as  like  the  mother  as  possible  in  fea- 
tures. Her  round  face  is  quaintly  framed  in  a  close 
lace-trimmed  cap.  She  is  a  shy  little  creature,  and 
is  rather  afraid  of  the  strange  painter.  So  she 
keeps  as  far  as  possible  in  the  shelter  of  her  mo- 
ther's big  sleeve.  The  hour  drags  wearily  by.  The 
studio  is  a  dull  place,  and  the  sunshine  without  very 
inviting.  The  child  pulls  impatiently  at  her  mo- 
ther's arm,  and,  as  the  painter  speaks,  she  looks 
timidly  around,  wondering  what  he  will  think  of 
such  a  rude  little  gfirl. 

The  artist  is  secretly  much  amused  by  the  small 

^  Proverbs,  chapter  xxx.,  verses  26-28. 


Uanfstaeng],  photo. 


Jotin  Andrpw  A  Snn.  8o. 


MADAME   ANDREAS   COLYNS   DE    NOLE   AND    HER   DAUGH'lER 

A/i/nu/i  Gallery 


MADAME   DE   NOLE   AND   HER  DAUGHTER         29 

young  lady's  behavior.  He  has  a  shrewd  insight 
into  children's  thoughts,  and  sympathizes  with  their 
moods.  He  does  not  try  to  persuade  her  to  sit  for 
him,  but  he  catches  her  pose  just  as  she  stands  here. 
The  mother,  too,  is  wise  enough  to  let  the  child  alone, 
and  the  picture  is  made  as  we  see  it. 

As  we  compare  it  with  the  former  illustration  of 
the  man  with  his  little  boy,  it  is  amusing  to  see  the 
contrast  between  the  two  children.  The  boy  has 
such  a  grave  sense  of  responsibility,  while  the  girl 
cares  nothing  for  the  portrait.  She  would  doubtless 
think  the  boy  very  tiresome. 

We  are  apt  to  think  of  the  children  of  past  cen- 
turies as  altoofether  different  beino-s  from  those  of 
our  own  day.  With  few  toys  and  books  and  pic- 
tures such  as  we  have  now,  they  must  have  been,  we 
fancy,  very  sedate  little  creatures.  A  child  portrait 
like  this  in  our  illustration  dispels  these  false  ideas. 
This  little  daugliter  of  a  seventeenth-century  sculp- 
tor is  as  full  (^f  life  and  spirits  as  any  child  of  to- 
day. Barring  her  quaint  dress  and  foreign  tongue 
she  would  be  at  home  with  children  of  her  own  age 
in  any  period  or  country. 

The  lady's  dress  is  in  a  style  similar  to  that  which 
we  have  already  studied  in  the  portrait  of  our  first 
illustration.  The  stiff  bodice,  with  the  long  pointed 
front  and  square  neck,  the  broad  lace-trimmed  collar, 
the  large  sleeves,  and  the  wide  cuffs  turned  back  from 
the  wrist,  are  details  common  to  the  two  pictures. 
This  costume,  however,  is  somewhat  less  elegant  than 
that  of  the  English  lady  and  more   suggestive  of 


30  VAN   DYCK 

every-day  wear  in  the  home.  The  collar  is  less 
elaborate,  and  not  stiff ;  the  neck  is  entirely  covered 
with  soft  white  material,  fastened  at  the  throat  with 
a  small  brooch.  A  seal  ring  adorns  each  hand, 
worn  on  the  index  finger. 

We  recognize  the  pillar  in  the  background  as  a 
common  setting  in  Van  Dyck's  portraits.  The  taste 
of  this  time  was  rather  artificial  in  such  matters,  and 
inclined  to  stateliness.  There  is  here  no  vista  beyond 
the  pillar,  no  glimpse  into  another  apartment,  but 
the  space  is,  as  it  were,  completely  walled  in. 


VI 

D^DALUS    AND    ICARUS 

In  the  distant  past  which  we  call  the  age  of  fable 
lived  the  cunning  craftsman  Dtedalus  of  Athens. 
One  of  his  most  curious  inventions  was  a  labvrinth 
which  he  constructed  for  Minos,  the  king  of  Crete. 
Having  at  length  displeased  this  king  he  resolved  to 
flee  from  the  island  with  his  son  Icarus.  It  was 
impossible  to  escape  by  way  of  the  sea  without  de- 
tection, but  Daidalus  was  not  discouraged. 

"  Land  and  wave, 
He  cried,  deny  nie  way  !    But  Heaven  above 
Lies  open  !     Heaven  shall  bear  me  home  !  "  ^ 

So  saying  he  began  to  fashion  some  wings  with 
which  lie  might  fly  away.  Feathers  of  different 
lengths  were  bound  together  with  thread  and  wax, 
and  shaped  into  arched  pinions  like  those  of  a  bird. 
As  he  worked,  the  boy  Icarus  stood  by  watching  his 
father,  and  sometimes  handling  the  feathers  with 
his  meddlesome  fingers. 

At  last  the  final  touch  was  given,  and  Daedalus, 
fastening  the  wings  to  his  body  with  wax,  made  a 
short  trial  flight.  The  invention  was  a  success ;  the 
artist  rose  triumphant  in  the  air.     Then  he  taught 

^  All  the  quotations  are  from  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  Book  viii., 
translated  by  Henry  King. 


32  VAN   DYCK 

his  boy  the  use  of  the  wings,  warning  him  of  every 
possible  mishap :  — 

"  '  Midway  keep  thy  course,  he  said, 
My  Icarus,  1  warn  thee  !   if  too  low. 
The  damps  will  clog  thy  pinions  ;  if  too  high. 
The  heats  relax  them.     Midway  hold  thy  flight. 


By  mine 
Thy  course  direct.'     And  many  a  precept  more 
He  gave,  and  careful  as  he  bound  the  wings 
Upon  the  shoulders  of  the  boy,  his  cheeks 
Were  wet  with  tears,  and  in  the  task  his  hands 
Paternal  trembled." 

Our  picture  illustrates  this  point  in  the  story. 
Daedalus  has  just  fastened  the  wings  upon  his  son 
and  is  ofivinon  the  final  directions.  The  old  man's 
face  is  full  of  anxiety,  as  he  implores  the  lad  not  to 
fly  too  high.  Icarus  listens  to  the  advice  with  a 
shade  of  impatience,  pouting  a  little,  like  a  wdlful 
child  who  chafes  under  restraint.  He  points  for- 
ward, as  if  to  show  that  he  understands  his  orders. 
Already  the  slender  figure  is  poised  for  flight ;  he  is 
eaofer  to  be  off.  In  another  moment  he  will  rise 
into  the  air,  dropping  his  garment  as  he  ascends. 
A  light  breeze  flutters  the  soft  plumes  of  the  wings 
and  blows  the  loose  curls  about  the  boy's  head. 
His  youthful  beauty,  almost  feminine  in  type,  con 
trasts  finely  with  the  strong  furrowed  countenanct 
of  the  father. 

The  story  goes  on  to  tell  how  the  two  started  off 
together,  the  father  leading  the  way. 


From  •jiirbuu  piiul  by  Uraun,  Clement  &  Co, 


J'llin  Auilrew  i  Son,  3j. 


D^DALUS   AND    ICARUS 
Collectio)i  of  the  Earl  of  Spencer,  Althorp 


D^DALUS   AND   ICARUS  35 

"  And,  as  the  mother  bird 
When  first  her  offspi'iiig  from  the  nest  essays 
The  air,  he  hovered  anxious,  cheering  on 
The  boy  to  follow,  and  with  fatal  art 
Enjoining  thus  or  thus  his  wings  to  ply 
As  he  example  gave." 

For  a  while  all  went  well,  and  they  had  covered  a 
long  distance,  when  Icarus,  — 

"  Elate 
With  that  new  power,  more  daring  grew,  and  left 
His  guide,  and  higher,  with  ambitious  flight 
Soared,  aiming  at  the  skies  !  " 

This  was  the  very  danger  against  which  Daedalus 
had  warned  his  son. 

"  Upon  his  wings 
The  rays  of  noon  struck  scorching,  and  dissolved 
The  waxen  compact  of  their  plumes:  —  and  down 
He  toppled,  beating  wild  with  naked  arms 
The  uusustaining  air,  and  with  vain  cry 
Shrieking  for  succour  from  his  sire  ! 
The  sea  that  bears  his  name  received  him  as  he  fell." 

Daedalus, --having  buried  his  son  on  the  island  of 
Icaria,  proceeded  on  his  way  and  came  at  last  to 
Sicily,  where  he  I;ved  to  finish  some  important  works 
of  architecture. 

Our  illustration  shows  some  phases  of  Van  Dyck's 
art  with  Avhich  we  are  least  familiar.  He  rarely  in- 
terested himself  in  mythological  stories,  though  such 
subjects  were  common  among  his  contemporaries. 
The  painter  has  caught  in  this  case  the  essential 
spirit  of  the  myth.  There  are  few  of  his  pictures 
also  in  which  he  expressed  so  well  the  sense  of  mo- 
tion.    The  inclination  of  the  body  of  Icarus,  the 


36  VAN   DYCK 

poise  of  the  wings,  and  the  gesture  of  the  right  hand 
all  contribute  admirably  to  this  end. 

Here,  too,  we  see  how  carefully  he  studied  the 
nude  figure,  and  how  well  he  understood  the  princi- 
ples of  modelling.  The  foreshortening  of  the  right 
arm  and  hand  of  Icarus  is  a  clever  piece  of  techni- 
cal workmanship.  The  composition  is  well  planned 
to  fill  the  canvas. 


VII 

PORTllAIT    OF    CHARLES    I 

{By  Sir  Peter  Lely,  after  Van  Dyck) 

Charles  I.  of  England  was  the  second  king  of 
the  Stuart  dynasty,  whose  despotic  tendencies  made 
the  seventeenth  century  a  memorable  period  in  his- 
tory. He  ascended  the  throne  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
five,  and  began  at  once  to  assert  his  belief  in  the 
divine  riofht  of  king's.  Indiofnant  at  the  restraints 
which  Parliament  set  upon  his  power,  he  dissolved 
this  body  and  ruled  alone. 

For  more  than  ten  years  he  governed  England 
in  his  own  way,  and  during  this  time  his  court  was 
:;on ducted  with  great  magnificence.  The  palace  at 
Whitehall"  was  the  scene  of  many  brilliant  entertain- 
ments and  lavish  hospitalities. 

Charles  was  an  ardent  lover  of  music,  literature, 
and  painting,  and  in  his  gallery  was  a  collection  of 
pictures  remarkable  for  his  time.  He  was  particu- 
larly proud  of  the  ceiling  decorations  of  his  Ban- 
queting Hall,  furnished  by  Rubens.  He  interested 
himself  also  in  the  manufacture  of  tapestries,  and 
secured  for  England  Raphael's  cartoons  for  the 
Vatican  tapestries,  hoping  thereby  to  raise  the  artis- 
tic standard  of  the  home  production.^ 

^  See  Chapter  III.  of  volume  ou  Raphael  iu  the  Riverside  Art 
Series. 


38  VAN  DYCK 

It  was  a  crowning  proof  of  his  good  taste  that 
early  in  his  reign  he  appointed  Van  Dyck  the  court 
painter.  The  Flemish  painter  was  thereupon  made 
Sir  Anthony  Van  Dyck,  and  remained  in  the  royal 
service  until  his  death  in  1641.  It  was  the  kinof's 
intention  to  have  the  walls  of  the  Banqueting  Hall 
decorated  by  Van  Dyck,  but  this  plan  was  never 
carried  out.  As  it  was,  however,  the  court  painter 
is  said  to  have  made,  during  his  nine  years'  resi- 
dence in  England,  no  less  than  thirty-six  portraits 
of  the  king,  and  twenty-five  of  the  queen,  Henrietta 
Maria,  besides  many  pictures  of  their  children,  singly 
or  in  groups.  His  studio  was  a  favorite  resort  of 
the  royal  pair,  who  used  to  come  in  their  barge, 
by  the  way  of  the  Thames,  to  his  house  at  Black- 
friars.  The  painter  would  receive  them  with  the 
manners  of  a  prince.  Musicians  played  for  their 
entertainment,  and  the  conversation  turned  on  ques- 
tions of  art. 

In  this  constant  intercourse,  Van  Dyck  came  to 
know  well  the  face  of  his  royal  patron.  It  was  not 
really  a  handsome  face,  as  we  see  when  we  ana- 
lyze the  features  in  our  illustration.  The  forehead 
is  high  but  not  broad,  the  nose  large  and  not 
classically  modelled,  and  the  thick  lips  and  weak 
curves  of  the  mouth  are  not  hidden  by  the  up- 
turned mustache.  The  shape  of  the  face  is  long 
and  narrow  beyond  good  proportion,  but  this  defect 
is  relieved  by  the  chestnut  hair,  which  falls  in  long 
waving  locks  over  the  shoulders,  and  makes  a  broad 
frame  for  the  face. 


From  carbon  print  bj  Braun,  ClemeDC  Jc  Co. 

PORTRAIT   (3F    CHARLES   L 
Dresden  Gallery 


John  Andrew  4  Son.  8c 


PORTRAIT  OF  CHARLES  I  41 

All  these  details,  however,  escape  our  attention 
when  we  look  at  the  portrait  for  the  first  time.  We 
are  chiefly  impressed  by  the  kingly  presence  of  the 
man.  There  is  an  indefinable  suggestion  of  nobility 
in  his  bearing,  an  expression  of  grave  dignity  in  his 
countenance.  The  eyes  are  almost  melancholy,  the 
glance  is  averted  and  remote.  The  consciousness 
of  his  royal  birthright  gives  an  air  of  aloofness  to 
the  figure. 

The  king  stands  beside  a  table,  resting  one  hand 
on  the  broad  rim  of  the  hat  which  lies  there,  and 
holding  his  gloves  in  the  other.  He  wears  the 
mantle  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter,  ornamented  on 
the  left  side  with  the  six-pointed  silver  star,  in  the 
centre  of  which  is  the  red  cross  of  St.  Georo-e. 
From  a  broad  blue  ribbon  about  the  neck  is  sus- 
pended a  gold  medallion.  This  is  the  "  George," 
the  image  of  the  warrior  saint,  represented  on  horse- 
back in  his  encounter  with  the  dragon. 

The  attempt  of  Charles  to  govern  England  with- 
out a  Parliament  proved  a  sad  failure.  He  set  his 
own  authority  above  all  laws,  and  persistently  dis- 
regarded the  rights  of  the  people.  At  last  he  be- 
came involved  in  so  many  difficulties  that  he  wat? 
obliged  to  reassemble  the  two  houses.  Then  fol- 
lowed the  lonof  struofcrle  between  the  kino-  and  the 
Parliament,  which  resulted  in  the  Civil  War.  The 
supporters  of  the  Crown  represented  chiefly  the 
upper  classes,  and  were  called  Cavaliers.  The  Par- 
liamentarians were  for  the  most  part  Puritans,  and 
were  men  of  fervent  piety. 


42  VAN   DYCK 

There  were  six  years  of  fighting,  beginning  with 
the  battle  of  Eclgehill,  and  cuhninating  in  the  Par- 
Hamentaiy  victory  at  Naseby.  Charles  was  tried 
and  condemned  as  a  "  tyrant,  traitor,  murderer, 
and  public  enemy."  On  the  30th  of  January,  1649, 
he  was  executed  in  front  of  Whitehall  Palace,  walk- 
ing to  the  scaffold  with  the  same  kingly  dignity 
which  he  had  shown  throughout  his  life.  "  I  go," 
said  he,  "  from  a  corruptible  to  an  incorruptible 
crown,  wdiere  no  disturbance  can  take  place."  His 
body  was  laid  among  others  of  England's  royal  dead 
at  Windsor. 

The  picture  reproduced  in  our  illustration  is  not 
thought  to  be  the  original  work  of  Van  Dyck's 
hand,  for  that  precious  painting  was  destroyed  by  a 
fire  in  the  Palace  of  Whitehall.  It  was  a  fortunate 
circumstance  that  while  it  was  still  in  existence, 
Sir  Peter  Lely,  court  painter  to  Charles  II.,  made  a 
fine  copy  of  it,  which  is  now  in  the  Dresden  Gallery. 
A  competent  critic  (Lionel  Cust)  tells  us  that  the 
Dresden  picture  is  so  excellent  that  "  it  is  difficult 
to  believe  it  to  be  other  than  an  original  by  Van 
Dyck." 

Authorities.  —  Green  :    A  Short  Hixtory  of  the  English  People: 
D'Israeli :  Commentaries  on  the  Life  and  Reign  of  Charles  I. 


vm 

THE    MADONNA    OF    ST.    ROSALIA 

On  the  summit  of  Monte  PellegTuio,  in  the  island 
of  Sicily,  stands  a  colossal  statue  of  St.  Rosalia. 
Like  the  old  Greek  statue  of  Victory  on  the  island 
of  Samothrace/  or  to  use  a  modern  instance,  like  the 
statue  of  Liberty  on  Bedloe's  Island  in  New  York 
harbor,  St.  Rosalia  serves  as  a  beacon  to  mariners. 
The  Sicilians  hold  the  saint  in  great  reverence,  and 
celebrate  her  memory  in  two  annual  festivals.  From 
the  eleventh  to  the  fifteenth  of  July  are  horse-races, 
regattas,  illuminations,  and  all  sorts  of  gayeties  in  her 
honor.  In  September  there  is  a  solemn  procession 
to  her  chapel. 

St.  Rosalia  was  a  Sicilian  maiden  of  noble  family, 
the  niece  ^f  William  II.,  called  the  Good.  Being- 
both  rich  and  beautiful,  she  had  many  suitors  for  her 
hand,  but  she  rejected  them  all.  At  the  age  of  fif- 
teen she  renounced  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  the 
world,  and  devoted  herself  to  a  life  of  meditation. 
She  retired  secretly  to  a  cavern  on  Mt.  Heirkte,  and 
here  she  passed  her  solitary  life.  It  was  not  imtil 
five  hundred  years  after  her  disappearance  that  her 
hiding-place  was  discovered.  There  they  found  her 
lying  in  her  grotto,  as  if  she  had  just  fallen  asleejD, 

^  See  Chapter  XV.  in  the  volume  on  Greek  Sculpture  in  the  Biv. 
erside  Art  Series. 


44  VAN   DYCK 

and  on  her  head  was  a  wreath  of  roses  with  whicli 
the  angels  had  crowned  her.  The  body  was  carried 
in  triumph  to  Palermo,  and  she  became  the  patron 
saint  of  her  native  city. 

This  was  in  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury/ and  the  story  of  the  new  saint's  life  immedi- 
ately became  the  subject  of  art.  Van  Dyck  painted 
for  a  church  in  Antwerp  a  series  of  pictures  of  St. 
Rosalia,  from  which  our  illustration  is  taken.  The 
maiden  saint  kneels  on  the  steps  of  a  throne  to  re- 
ceive a  wreath  of  roses  from  the  Christ-child.  An 
angel  attendant  behind  her  holds  a  basket  of  roses. 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  add  dignity  to  the  scene. 

As  we  see  at  once,  this  is  not  an  actual  incident 
from  the  life  of  St.  Rosalia.  The  aim  of  the  pic- 
ture is  devotional.  It  is  as  if  we  were  given  a 
gHmpse  into  the  court  of  heaven,  where  the  saints  of 
all  asfes  o-ather  about  the  Christ-child's  throne. 

St.  Peter  is  seen  at  the  Madonna's  left,  gazing  at 
some  little  cherubs  Avho  hover  in  mid  air  with  sprays 
of  flowers.  We  know  him  by  the  mammoth  key  he 
carries  in  his  left  hand,  a  symbol  of  his  authority 
in  spu'itual  concerns.  The  reference  is  to  the  words 
of  Jesus  when  Peter  declared  hmi  to  be  the  Christ : 
"  I  will  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven."  ^  He  seems  here  a  very  old  man,  and  one 
Avho  has  suffered  many  persecutions  in  the  master's 
cause. 

St.  Paul  stands  at  the  right  of  the  throne,  leaning 

1  The  date  of  her  disappearance  is  given  as  1159. 

2  St.  Matthew,  chapter  xvi.,  verse  19. 


From  carbon  print  hy  Braun, Clement  it  Co. 

THE   MADONNA   OF   ST.  ROSALIA 
Imperial  Gallery,  Vienna 


John  Andrew  &  Sua, 


THE   MADONNA   OF   ST.   ROSALIA  47 

on  his  sword  in  an  attitude  of  meditation.  The 
sword  has  been  chosen  as  this  apostle's  emblem  be- 
cause of  his  allusion  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians 
to  the  "  sword  of  the  spirit."  ^  The  books  lying  on 
the  pavement  at  his  feet  are  his  various  writings. 

According  to  tradition  the  Apostle  Paul  was  a 
man  of  mean  stature  and  insignificant  appearance. 
Regardless  of  this  fact,  however,  the  old  artists 
always  tried  to  make  him  as  grand  and  noble  as 
possible,  that  his  outward  appearance  might  corre- 
spond to  the  grandeur  of  his  character.  There  was 
a  certain  old  Italian  painter  named  Masaccio,  who 
set  the  fashion,  as  it  were,  for  the  ideal  jDortrait  of 
St.  Paul.'-'  A  hundred  years  later  Raphael  imitated 
this  figure,  and  again  a  century  later.  Van  Dyck  re- 
peated it  in  the  picture  before  us.  If  we  compare 
our  illustration  with  a  print  of  Raphael's  picture  of 
St.  Cecilia  we  shall  see  the  resemblance.^  Even  the 
pose  is  the  same  in  the  two  cases.  The  grand  head 
with  the  full  beard  reminds  us  of  the  Greeks'  con- 
ception of  their  god  Zeus.* 

St.  Rosalia  is  a  beautiful  young  woman,  richly 
dressed  in  a  brocaded  mantle,  and  with  wavy  hair 
falling  over  her  shoulders.  Her  attitude  is  very 
humble,  and  she  lifts  her  face  to  the  Christ-child's 
with  sweet  adoration.      The  little  fellow  seems  de- 

1  Epliesians,  chapter  vi.,  verse  17. 

2  In  the  fresco  of  the  Carmine  Church,  Florence. 

^  See  Chapter  IX.  of  the  vohinie  on  liaphnd  in  the  Riverside  Art 
Series. 

*  See  Chapter  I.  of  the  vohnne  on  Greek  Sculpture  in  the  River- 
side Art  Series. 


48  VAN  DYCK 

lighted  with  his  task,  and  leans  forward  eagerly, 
to  offer  the  saint  the  crown  of  roses.  Is  it  for  me  ? 
she  seems  to  ask,  as  she  lays  one  hand  upon  her 
breast  and  timidly  holds  out  the  other. 

On  the  step  beside  her  is  a  human  skull,  across 
which  hes  a  stalk  of  lilies.  The  flowers  are  an  Easter 
emblem,  and  symbolize  the  Resurrection.  The  skull 
is  the  token  of  death.  Thus  are  we  taught  the  vic- 
tory over  death  through  the  purity  of  the  spiritual 
life. 

The  grotto  of  St.  Rosalia  has  become  a  church 
which  is  the  object  of  many  a  pious  pilgrimage.  It 
is  for  this  that  the  name  of  the  mountain  was 
changed  from  Heirkte  to  Monte  PeUegrino,  which 
means  the  Pilg-rim  Mountain. 

We  have  already  seen  (Chapters  II.  and  IV.)  how 
much  Van  Dyck  owed  to  Titian  in  the  rendering  of 
sacred  subjects.  Here  the  Madonna's  high  throne 
beside  the  marble  pillars,  and  the  cherubs  in  mid  air 
are  striking  reminiscences  of  Titian's  Pesaro  Ma- 
donna.^ 


^  See  Chapter  XIV.  in  the  volume  on  Titian  in  the  Kiverside  Art 
Series. 


IX 

CHARLES,    PRINCE    OF    WALES 

{Detail  of  Children  of  Charles  /.) 

The  Prince  Charles  of  our  picture  was  the  son  of 
Charles  I.  and  Henrietta  Maria,  and  bore  the  title 
of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  He  was  born  on  the  morn- 
ing of  May  29,  1630,  and  there  was  great  rejoicing 
in  the  royal  household  that  he  was  a  fine  strong- 
baby.  The  king  at  once  rode  in  state  to  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral  to  give  thanks  for  the  birth  of  an  heir. 
While  the  procession  was  on  its  way  a  bright  star 
appeared  in  the  noonday  sky.  This  was  hailed  as  a 
good  omen,  and  an  epigram  was  composed  on  the 
occasion  r — 

"  When  to  Paul's  Cross  the  grateful  King  drew  near, 

A  shining  star  did  in  the  heavens  appear. 

Thou  that  consultest  with  bright  mysteries 

Tell  me  what  this  bright  wanderer  signifies  ?  " 
"  Now  there  is  born  a  valiant  prince  i'  the  west, 

That  shall  eclipse  the  kingdoms  of  the  east." 

A  month  later  the  baby's  baptism  was  celebrated 
with  great  solemnity  in  the  chapel  at  St.  James. 
The  famous  Laud,  Bishop  of  London,  officiated,  and 
the  sponsors  were  Louis  XHL  of  France,  Marie  de 
Medicis,  and  the  Elector  Palatine,  all  represented  by 
proxies.     There  were  wonderful  christening  presents. 


50  VAN   DYCK 

among'  them  a  jewel  of  great  value  brought  by  thfe 
old  Duchess  of  Richmond. 

The  new-born  prince  did  not  grow  into  a  pretty 
baby.  Even  his  motlier,  who  Avould  naturally  wash 
to  praise  him,  wrote  to  a  friend  in  France  that  he 
was  "  so  ugly  she  was  ashamed  of  him."  "  But," 
she  added,  "  his  size  and  fatness  supply  the  want  of 
beauty.  I  wish  you  could  see  the  gentleman,  for  he 
has  no  ordinary  mien  ;  he  is  so  serious  in  all  that 
he  does  that  I  cannot  help  deeming  him  far  wiser 
than  myself."  A  few  years  later  the  child  became 
a  pretty  boy,  with  a  fine  figure,  brown  complexion, 
and  large,  bright  black  eyes.  His  mouth,  however, 
remained  very  ugly. 

The  prince's  earliest  years  were  passed  happily, 
and  no  one  could  have  foreseen  the  stormy  experi- 
ences through  which  he  must  pass  before  he  should 
inherit  the  throne  of  his  father.  The  kins:  and 
queen  were  devoted  to  each  other  and  to  their  chil- 
dren. There  was  a  younger  boy.  Prince  James,  and 
three  sisters,  to  complete  the  family  circle.^  It  is 
pleasant  to  imagine  them  at  play  in  the  royal  nur- 
sery. 

The  young  Prince  of  Wales  had  for  his  gover- 
nor the  Earl  of  Newcastle.  We  read  of  a  letter 
written  at  the  age  of  eight  and  addressed  to  this 
nobleman. 

1  That  is,  Princess  Mary,  Princess  Elizabeth,  and  Princess  Anne. 
Prince  Henry  was  only  an  infant  when  the  family  circle  was  broken 
up,  and  Princess  Henrietta  was  not  born  until  1644,  while  the  Civil 
War  was  actually  in  progress. 


r united  by  ^'un  Dyck. 


John  Andrew  &  Son,  Sc 


CHARLES,    PRINCE   OF   WALES 
Royal  Gallery,   Tnrii: 


CHARLES,   PRINCE   OF  WALES  53 

The  contents  refer  wittily  to  the  governor's  advice 
about  taking  medicine  :  — 

"  My  lord, 

"  I  would  not  have  you  take  too  much  phisike  for 
it  doth  always  make  me  worse  ;  and  I  think  it  will 
doe  the  like  with  you.  I  ride  every  day,  and  am 
ready  to  follow  any  other  directions  from  you. 
Make  haste  back  to  him  that  loves  you, 

"  Charles  P." 

We  see  from  this  that  the  boy  was  early  taught 
to  ride,  and  was  doubtless  trained  in  all  manly 
sports.  In  the  Stuart  household  dogs  were  the  favor- 
ite pets,  and  the  young  Charles  seems  always  to 
have  been  accompanied  by  one,  now  a  colHe,  now  a 
spaniel,  now  a  great  boarhound.  The  queen  had  a 
peculiar  fancy  for  dwarfs,  Avhich  were  in  this  period 
common  playthings  of  royalty.  Little  Geoffrey 
Hudson^  eighteen  inches  high,  was  an  important 
member  of  the  court,  having  been  presented  to  Hen- 
rietta Maria  in  a  huge  pie.^ 

In  our  picture  Prince  Charles  is  about  five  years 
old.  At  this  age,  in  our  modern  fashions,  a  boy  is 
dressed  quite  differently  from  a  girl.  Here,  however, 
the  little  prince's  finery  and  his  round  lace  cap  some- 
what belie  his  manliness.  Yet  his  short  hair  cut  in 
a  straight  fringe  across  the  forehead  is  his  boy's 
prerogative.  The  wide  lace  collar  was  worn  by 
men  as  well  as  boys,  as  we  may  see  in  the  portraits 

'  As  we  read  in  Scott's  novel,  Peveril  of  the  Peak. 


64  VAN   DYCK 

of  the  king  and  of  the  Duke  of  Lennox.  We  speak 
of  it  to-day  as  a  "  Van  Dyck  collar." 

The  child  has  a  winning  face,  with  large  round 
eyes  and  a  mouth  which  the  flattering  painter  has 
shaped  like  a  Cupid's  bow.  Though  the  expression 
is  perfectly  child-like,  there  is  a  certain  dignity  in 
the  pose  of  the  head,  which  makes  the  boy  appear 
mature  beyond  his  years.  Evidently  Van  Dyck 
meant  everybody  to  know  that  this  was  a  j^rince. 

Prince  Charles's  happy  boyhood  came  to  an  end  at 
the  breaking  out  of  the  Civil  War.  Though  he  was 
then  only  twelve  years  of  age,  he  and  his  brother, 
Prince  James,  followed  their  father  to  the  battle- 
field, suffering  cold  and  hunger  and  even  the  dan- 
gers of  the  enemy's  bullets.  At  the  age  of  sixteen, 
the  Prince  of  Wales  joined  his  mother  in  Paris. 
Upon  the  execution  of  his  father  he  at  once  assumed 
the  title  of  King  Charles  II.,  and  in  the  following 
year  was  crowned  at  Scone  in  Scotland  at  the  age 
of  twenty-one.  Putting  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
Scottish  army,  he  advanced  into  England,  and  was 
completely  defeated  by  Cromwell.  After  nine  years 
of  exile  he  was  recalled  to  England  and  restored  to 
the  throne.  Thus  did  the  innocent  baby  prince  of 
our  picture  become  the  Merry  Monarch  of  the  Resto- 
ration, whose  court  was  a  disgrace  in  English  history. 

Our  illustration  is  a  detail  of  a  larger  picture  con- 
taining a  group  of  three  children,  Prince  Charles, 
with  Princess  Mary  and  Prince  James,  Duke  of  York. 

Authority.  —  Strickland  :  Queens  of  England. 


X 


ST.   MARTIN    DIVIDING    HIS    CLOAK   WITH    A    BEGGAR 

St.  Martin  was  born  duriuo-  the  reio-n  of  the 
Emperor  Constantme  the  Great,  and  was  the  son  of 
a  Roman  soldier.  He  hmiself  entered  the  army  at 
an  early  age,  and  was  sent  into  Gaul  with  a  regi- 
ment of  cavalry.  Among  his  comrades  he  was 
loved  for  his  mildness  of  temper  and  his  generosity. 

It  happened  that  he  was  stationed  in  the  city  of 
Amiens,  during  a  winter  of  unusual  severity.  There 
was  great  suffering  among  the  poor,  and  many  per- 
ished with  cold  and  hunger.  St.  Martin  w^as  riding- 
one  day  through  the  city  gate,  when  he  passed  a 
naked  beggar  shivering  on  the  pavement.  Imme- 
diately he  drew  rein,  and  spoke  pityingly  to  the  poor 
creature.  The  young  soldier  was  wearing  over  his 
coat  of  mail  a  long  mantle.  Slipjiing  this  garment 
from  his  shoulders  he  divided  it  with  his  sword, 
giving  half  to  the  beggar.  That  same  night,  as  he 
slept,  he  had  a  vision  of  Jesus  clad  in  the  portion  of 
his  mantle.  And  Jesus,  turninof  to  the  ano-els  who 
accompanied  him,  said,  "  My  servant  Martin  hath 
done  this." 

After  a  time  St.  Martin  left  the  army,  to  devote 
himself  wholly  to  a  religious  life.  He  became  the 
Bishop  of  Tours,  and  was  noted  for  his  deeds   of 


66  VAN   DYCK 

mercy  and  charity.  It  was  always  his  dehght  to 
clothe  the  poor.  Once  while  he  was  standing  at 
the  altar  of  the  cathedral,  he  turned  and  threw  his 
priestly  garment  over  a  beggar,  with  the  same  im- 
pidsive  generosity  which  had  led  him  to  divide  his 
military  cloak.  He  was  zealous  also  in  uprooting 
all  forms  of  heathenism,  and  cast  down  many  temples 
of  idols. 

He  lived  to  a  good  old  age,  and  died  among  the 
scenes  of  his  labors.  The  legend  relates  that  as  he 
lay  in  his  last  illness  he  prayed  his  brethren  to  move 
him  where  he  might  see  more  of  heaven  than  of 
earth.  His  face  shone  as  it  had  been  glorified,  and 
the  voices  of  angels  were  heard  singing/  In  Tours 
from  that  day  to  this  his  memory  is  piously  cherished. 
Every  child  in  the  street  loves  to  tell  the  story  of 
the  gallant  soldier  who  shared  his  cloak  with  the 
beggar. 

This  is  the  story  in  our  picture.  St.  Martin  rides 
forward  on  a  splendid  white  charger,  accompanied 
by  other  horsemen.  At  the  corner  of  the  gateway 
two  beofo^ars  await  them.  The  older  one  hobbles 
forward  on  his  knees,  supported  by  crutches. 
Though  he  is  a  miserable  object,  he  is  fairly  pro- 
tected from  the  cold  by  a  long  garment.  His  com- 
panion is  perfectly  naked,  a  huge  muscular  fellow 
seated    on  some  straw.     He  is  just  turning   about 

1  The  life  of  St.  Martin  is  related  with  much  circumstance  in  the 
Golden  Legend.  See  Caxton's  translation  in  the  Temple  Classics 
Edition,  vol.  vi.,  p.  142.  Mrs.  Jameson  gives  a  brief  account  of  the 
same  in  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art,  p.  705. 


From  carton  print  by  Braun,  Clement  k  Co. 


ST.   MARTIN   DIVIDING   HIS  CLOAK   WITH   A   BEGGAR 
Church  of  Saventhem 


ST.  MARTIN  DIVIDES  HIS  CLOAK  WITH  A  BEGGAR    59 

to  make  way  for  the  cavalcade,  when  the  knight 
draws  rein. 

The  horse  arches  his  neck  proudly  and  stamps 
impatient  at  the  delay.  The  rider  on  St.  Martin's 
right  looks  across  with  surprise.  But  the  young 
knight  serenely  proceeds  in  his  generous  act.  Al- 
ready his  cloak  has  slipped  from  his  figure  and 
hangs  only  from  his  left  shoulder.  Grasping  it  with 
his  left  hand  half  way  down  its  length,  he  raises  his 
sword  to  sunder  it  at  this  place. 

The  lower  end  has  fallen  across  the  beggar's  right 
arm.  At  its  warm  touch,  the  man,  overwhelmed 
with  gratitude,  abashed  perhaps  by  the  goodness  of 
his  benefactor,  hides  his  face  with  his  upraised  left 
arm.  It  is  as  if  the  knightly  purity  of  the  compas- 
sionate face  abo^'e  him  has  revealed  the  man  to  him- 
self in  his  loathsome  deg-radation. 

The  young  soldier  is  clad  in  a  tunic  of  mail  whicli 
sets  off  to  perfect  advantage  the  lithe  figure.  Over 
his  short  curls  is  worn  a  jaunty  cap  with  a  long- 
feather  ;  he  is  a  veritable  fairy  prince.  The  boyish 
face  accords  well  with  the  legend,  which  relates  that 
he  was  only  a  youth  when  the  incident  occurred. 
It  is  said  that  no  one  ever  saw  St.  Martin  angry,  oi 
sad,  or  gay ;  he  was  always  sweet,  and  serious,  and 
serene.  This,  too,  is  precisely  as  we  see  him  in  the 
picture.  The  good  deed  done,  we  may  fancy  the 
young  cavalier  riding  on  his  way,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened. 

The  beautiful  horse  of  the  picture  is  one  whicli 
appears  in  many  of  Van  Dyck's  works.     There  is  a 


.J 


60  VAN  DYCK 

tradition  that  the  original  was  Ruben s's  gift  to  the 
painter  when  he  set  out  for  Italy.  Van  Dyck  has 
built  his  picture  on  a  diagonal  plan,  such  as  the 
older  painter  Rubens  often  used.  The  main  line  of 
the  composition  runs  from  the  head  of  the  man  in 
the  upper  left  corner,  to  the  beggar  in  the  lower 
rig-ht  corner.  The  lifted  sword  and  the  falline- 
mantle  form  the  connecting  lines  across  the  canvas. 
The  feast  of  St.  Martin  is  celebrated  on  the 
eleventh  of  November,  in  that  short  season  of  warm 
weather  which  briohtens  the  autumn.  It  is  for  this 
that  the  French  call  the  week  "  St.  Martin's  little 
summer."  Every  year,  at  this  time,  pious  pilgrims 
visit  the  quiet  cells,  in  the  limestone  cliff  by  the 
riverside,  where  the  good  bishop  used  to  retire  for 
prayer. 


XT 

THE    CRUCIFIXION 

The  life  of  our  Lord,  which  began  in  the  Bethle- 
hem manger,  culminated  on  the  cross  of  Mount  Cal- 
vary. In  our  picture  we  see  the  Man  of  Sorrows  in 
his  last  moments  of  suffering.  How  it  came  about 
that  he  was  crucified  is  fully  related  by  the  four 
evangelists.^ 

For  three  years  he  had  gone  about  among  the 
peoj)le,  healing  the  sick,  comforting  the  sorrowing, 
and  preaching  the  good  tidings  of  the  kingdom.  His 
blameless  life  was  a  constant  reproach  to  hypocrites 
and  evil  doers.  The  priests  were  jealous  of  his  pop- 
ularity and  hated  him  for  his  rebukes.  As  the  feast 
of  the  Passover  drew  near,  they  sought  how  they 
mio'ht  kill  him. 

Judsea  was  at  that  time  a  province  of  the  great 
Roman  empire,  and  the  civil  authority  was  vested  in 
the  governor,  Pontius  Pilate,  and  a  body  of  Roman 
soldiery.  The  Romans,  however,  did  not  interfere 
much  with  the  affairs  of  the  Jews,  and  there  was 
little  trouble  in  carrying  out  a  plot.  A  formal 
charge  against  Jesus  was  made  by  false  witnesses, 

^  St.  Matthew,  chapters  xxvi.  and  xxvii.  ;  St.  Mark,  chapters  xiv. 
and  XV.;  St.  Luke,  chapters  xxii.  and  xxiii.  ;  St.  John,  chapters  xviii. 
and  xix. 


62  VAN   DYCK 

and  he  was  arrested  as  a  common  criminal.  After 
being  examined  by  the  high  priest,  he  was  led  to 
the  governor  for  trial.  "  And  they  began  to  accuse 
him,  saying.  We  found  this  fellow  perverting  the 
nation  and  forbidding  to  give  tribute  to  Caesar,  say- 
ing that  he  himself  is  Christ,  a  king." 

Pilate  now  took  him  within  his  palace  for  a  private 
interview,  and  could  find  no  fault  with  him.  Nor 
did  King  Herod,  to  whom  the  case  was  referred, 
differ  from  the  governor  as  to  the  prisoner's  inno- 
cence. Pilate  therefore  appealed  to  the  people  in 
behalf  of  Jesus,  but  a  multitude  of  angry  voices 
shouted,  "  Crucify  him  !  "  "  Crucify  him  !  "  "  And 
so,  Pilate,  willing  to  content  the  people  .  .  .  delivered 
Jesus  ...  to  be  crucified."  He  was  crucified,  as 
we  know,  between  two  thieves,  and  over  his  cross 
was  the  superscription  written  by  Pilate,  in  three 
languages,  "  This  is  Jesus,  the  King  of  the  Jews." 

Seven  times,  while  he  hung  upon  the  cross,  did 
the  suffering  Saviour  speak  aloud.  "  Father,  forgive 
them,"  was  his  first  exclamation,  "  for  they  know  not 
what  they  do."  His  next  words  were  to  the  thief 
on  one  side,  who  begged  to  be  remembered  when 
Jesus  should  come  into  His  own  :  "  This  day  shalt 
thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise,"  was  the  reply.  Then 
his  thoughts  turned  lovingly  to  his  mother,  who  stood 
with  John  by  the  cross.  "  Woman,  behold  thy  son," 
he  said  to  her,  indicating  John.  Then  turning  to 
John,  he  added,  "  Behold  thy  mother."  A  moment 
of  agony  followed,  when  he  cried,  "My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  "     After  this,  he 


From  carbon  print  by  Braun.  Ctgment  tc  Co. 


JoliD  Andrew  &  buu,  qq. 


THE   CRUCIFIXION 
Antwerp  Museum 


THE   CRUCIFIXION  65 

said,  "I  thirst,"  and  a  soldier  held  to  his  lips  a 
sponge  wet  with  vinegar.  As  the  end  drew  near 
came  the  words,  "  It  is  finished,"  and  at  last,  "  Fa- 
ther, into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit." 

In  Van  Dyck's  picture  we  see  nothing  of  the  sur- 
roundings of  the  Crucifixion  —  the  Roman  soldiers, 
the  curious  crowd,  the  sorrowing  friends,  or  the  cru- 
cified thieves.  Only  the  sohtary  figure  of  Jesus, 
nailed  to  the  cross,  is  lifted  against  the  strange  dark 
sky.  For  three  hours,  as  we  read,  there  was  dark- 
ness over  all  the  land,  followed  immediately,  after 
the  death  of  Jesus,  by  a  great  earthquake.  This  is 
the  moment  when  the  storm-clouds  are  gathering- 
over  the  face  of  the  sun,  causing  its  light  to  gleam 
luridly  through  the  thick  covering.  The  cross  is 
rudely  built  of  two  beams  in  the  form  which  is  called 
a  Latin  cross.  A  fluttering  scroll  at  the  top  of  the 
upright  beam  carries  the  accusation  "  The  King  of 
the  Jews." 

The  garments  of  Jesus  had  been  stripped  from  his 
body  and  divided  among  four  soldiers.  He  now 
hangs  naked  upon  the  cross  save  a  small  strip  of 
cloth  knotted  about  his  loins,  the  loose  ends  hang- 
ing at  one  side.  The  body  is  somewhat  slender  and 
delicately  modelled,  but  firm  and  supple  as  of  one  in 
the  fulness  of  manhood.  The  hair  falls  in  dishev- 
elled locks  about  the  face,  and  a  mysterious  light 
shines  above  the  head. 

As  we  look  at  the  picture,  each  one  must  decide 
for  himself  what  moment  in  the  great  drama  is  illus- 
trated.    From    the  expression  of    suffering  on  the 


66  VAN   DYCK 

countenance  we  juclge  that  the  end  is  approaching. 
From  the  lifted  face  and  open  mouth  we  see  that  the 
sufferer  communes  with  his  Father. 

The  Crucifixion  is  the  saddest  subject  a  painter 
could  choose,  yet  notwithstanding  this,  it  has  been 
one  of  the  most  imjjortant  subjects  in  Christian  art. 
Van  Dyck  painted  it  many  times,  and  expressed, 
as  we  see  here,  a  deep  sense  of  the  tragic  nature  of 
the  scene.  Yet  he  always  avoided  those  harrowing 
details  which  make  some  of  the  pictures  of  the  older 
masters  too  painful  to  contemplate.  For  this  reason 
his  crucified  Christ  has  been  chosen  as  the  model  for 
the  Crucifixion  scene  in  the  Passion  Play  at  Ober- 
Ammergau. 

We  may  see  how  wide  was  the  range  of  our 
artist's  gifts,  which  extended  from  such  joyous  pic- 
tures as  the  Rest  in  Egypt  to  a  theme  so  solemn  as 
the  Crucifixion. 


XII 


JAMES      STUART,     DUKE      OF      LENNOX      AND     AFTER- 
WARDS   OF    RICHMOND 

James  Stuart,  Duke  of  Lennox,  was  one  of  the 
most  prominent  personages  at  the  Enghsh  court. 
His  uncle  was  a  cousin  and  trusted  friend  of  King 
James  I.,  and  the  relations  between  the  nephew  and 
Charles  I.  were  even  closer.  Immediately  upon 
taking  a  degree  at  Cambridge,  the  young  nobleman 
entered  the  royal  service  as  Gentleman  of  the  King's 
Bedchamber.  He  was  just  thirteen  years  of  age,  and 
a  born  courtier.  "  His  courtesie  was  his  nature,  not 
his  craft,"  quaintly  says  one  historian.  While  still 
in  his  minority,  he  visited  France,  Italy,  and  Spain. 
When  Van  Dyck  came  to  England,  he  became  at 
once  one  of  the  painter's  most  frequent  sitters. 

Our  illustration  is  one  of  the  first  of  the  series 
of  portraits  of  the  Duke  of  Lennox,  and  shows  him 
at  the  age  of  twenty.  The  young  man  stands  with 
his  hand  on  the  head  of  a  favorite  greyhound,  and 
turns  his  pleasant  face  to  ours  with  a  smile.  He 
wears  the  habit  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter.  This 
"  most  noble  and  illustrious  Order  "  was  instituted 
by  Khig  Edward  III.  under  the  patronage  of  St. 
George.  It  consisted  of  the  sovereign  and  twenty- 
five  "  companions  "  banded  together,  like  the  knights 


68  VAN   DYCK 

o£  Arthur's  Kound  Table,  for  the  advancement  of 
ideal  manliness.  The  ceremony  of  investiture  was 
very  solemn,  each  part  of  the  costume  being  placed 
in  turn  on  the  elect  knight,  when  he  knelt  to  take 
the  vows.  We  note  in  the  picture  the  same  details 
which  we  saw  in  the  portrait  of  Charles  I.,  the  man- 
tle with  the  great  silver  star,  and  the  gold  medal,  or 
"  George,"  on  the  blue  ribbon.  One  part  of  the 
costume  not  to  be  seen  in  the  other  picture  is  the 
garter,  worn  on  the  left  leg  "  between  the  knee  and 
the  calf,"  as  the  old  directions  read. 

The  garter  was,  indeed,  originally  the  most  impor- 
tant emblem  of  the  entire  garb.  It  symbolized  to 
the  wearers  that  "  as  by  theii'  Order,  they  were 
join'd  in  a  firm  League  of  Amity  and  Concord,  so  by 
their  Garter,  as  by  a  fast  Tye  of  Affection,  they  were 
obliged  to  love  one  another."  The  garter  was  blue, 
fastened  with  a  gold  buckle,  and  on  it  was  inscribed 
the  motto,  "  Honi  soit  qui  mal  y  pense  "  [Evil  to 
him  who  evil  thinks].  A  miniature  representation 
of  the  garter  encircles  the  cross  in  the  centre  of  the 
star,  and  also  forms  a  border  of  the  "  George  " 
medallion. 

From  the  broad  lace  collar  to  the  high-heeled 
shoes  with  their  huge  rosettes,  the  young  man  of 
the  picture  represents  the  height  of  the  prevailing 
fashion.  His  hair  is  carefully  curled  in  the  manner 
of  the  Cavaliers.  He  is  in  fact  the  impersonation 
of  the  court  life  of  the  period.  It  is  pleasant  to 
fancy  the  graceful  youth  moving  through  the  stately 
figures  of  the  court  dances. 


From  aphoiograplj  ul  the  original  painting. 


JAMES    STUART,    DUKK   OF    LENNOX   AND   RICHMOND 
Metropolitan  Art  Museum,  New  York 


JAMES   STUART  71 

It  was  five  years  after  this  portrait  was  painted 
that  the  Duke  of  Lennox  married  Mary,  the  daugh 
ter  of  the  first  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Then  fol- 
lowed the  troubles  in  Scotland  caused  by  the  king's 
persistent  attempt  to  force  the  liturgy  of  the  Church 
of  England  upon  the  people.  Lennox  now  showed 
himself  a  stanch  adherent  of  the  Crown,  and  upheld 
the  royal  cause  in  the  face  of  the  bitter  opposition 
of  the  Scotch.  LLis  enemies  thought  him  very 
liaughty  and  severe  in  his  manner,  but  his  probity 
and  sincerity  seem  not  to  have  been  questioned. 

.  In  1641,  he  was  created  Duke  of  Richmond,  and 
in  the  same  year  was  appointed  to  the  high  office  of 
Lord  Steward  of  the  Household.  Throuo-hout  the 
civil  war  he  served  his  royal  master  with  untiring- 
faithfulness,  devoting  a  large  part  of  his  fortune  to 
the  cause  of  the  Crown.  Wlien  Charles  was  held  a 
prisoner  in  Hampton  Court,  it  was  this  friend  who 
cheered  the  period  of  his  confinement.  When  at 
last,  afte^*  the  execution  of  the  king,  the  royal 
remains  were  buried  at  Windsor,  the  Duke  of  Rich- 
mond was  one  of  the  four  noblemen  who  sorrow- 
fully bore  the  pall  to  the  grave.  He  died  in  the 
prime  of  manhood,  in  1655. 

A  more  loyal  follower  no  king  could  have,  yet, 
notwithstanding  his  zeal,  the  Duke  of  Lennox  and 
Richmond  failed  to  exert  any  great  influence  upon 
history,  because  he  lacked  the  necessary  judgment 
and  decision  of  character.  His  portrait  certainly 
does  not  indicate  any  special  intellectual  promise 
in  the  young  man.     Yet  the  face  is  so  refined,  the 


72  VAN  DYCK 

expression  so  winning,  that  none  can  help  feeling 
the  singular  charm  of  the  personality.  Van  Dyck 
understood  well  how  to  impart  an  air  of  distinction 
to  a  figure,  and  when,  as  in  this  case,  he  had  a 
favorable  subject,  he  was  especially  successful. 

To  lovers  of  dogs  the  greyhound  is  no  unimpor- 
tant part  of  our  picture.  The  painter  has  expressed 
with  much  insight  the  character  of  this  beautiful 
and  high-bred  creature.  The  muzzle  is  pressed 
affectionately  to  the  master's  side,  and  the  eyes  are 
fixed  upon  the  beloved  face  with  an  expression  of 
intense  devotion.  There  is  a  tradition  that  this 
animal  once  saved  the  duke's  life  by  rousing  him 
from  sleep  at  the  approach  of  an  assassin. 

In  the  making  up  of  the  composition,  the  dog's 
figure  describes  a  diagonal  line  on  the  left,  which 
balances  a  similar  diagonal  on  the  other  side  made 
by  the  duke's  placing  his  arm  akimbo.  Thus  the 
general  diagram  of  a  pyramid  is  suggested  as  the 
basis  of  the  grouping. 

Authorities.  —  Robert  Vaughn:  The  History  of  England  under  the 
House  of  Stuarts ;  L.  von  Ranke  :  The  History  of  England  in  the 
Seventeenth  Century  ;  Warwick's  Memoirs  /  Doyle's  Official  Baroriage 
of  England, 


XIII 

CHRIST    AND    THE    PARALYTIC 

It  was  a  part  o£  onr  Lord's  ministry  among  men 
to  restore  to  health  the  body  as  well  as  the  soul. 
He  was  often  moved  with  compassion  by  the  disease 
and  sufferinof  which  he  saw  as  he  went  about  Galilee 
or  passed  through  the  streets  of*  Jerusalem.  St. 
John,  the  evangelist  (chapter  v.),  relates  an  incident 
which  took  place  at  a  pool  called  Bethesda  near  a 
sheep  market  in  Jerusalem. 

There  were  here  five  porches  in  which  lay  "  a 
great  multitude  of  impotent  folk,  of  blind,  halt, 
withered,  waiting  for  the  moving  of  the  water." 
It  seems  that  at  certain  intervals  the  waters  of  the 
pool  were  troubled,  as  if  moved  by  some  unseen 
agency.  It  was  believed  that  the  first  person  step- 
ping in  thereafter  would  be  healed  of  any  disease 
he  mijrht  have. 

"  And  a  certain  man  was  there,  which  had  an  in- 
firmity thirty  and  eight  years.  When  Jesus  saw 
him  lie,  and  knew  that  he  had  been  now  a  long  time 
in  that  case,  he  saith  unto  him.  Wilt  thou  be  made 
whole  ?  The  impotent  man  answered  him.  Sir,  I 
have  no  man,  when  the  water  is  troubled,  to  put  me 
into  the  pool  :  but  while  I  am  coming,  another  step- 
peth  down  before  me.      Jesus  saith  unto  him.  Rise, 


74  VAN  DYCK 

take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk.  And  immediately  the 
man  was  made  whole,  and  took  up  his  bed,  and 
walked."  ^ 

This  is  the  incident  illustrated  by  our  picture. 
Jesus  has  already  brought  the  j^aralytic  to  his  feet, 
and  now  sends  him  on  his  way.  Two  other  men 
complete  the  group,  but  take  no  part  in  the  conver- 
sation. One  is  a  disciple,  perhaps  John,  who  accom- 
panies the  Master,  the  other  is  a  spectator  peering 
curiously  over  the  paralytic's  shoulder. 

The  restored  paralytic  carries  under  one  arm  a 
rug,  which  has  been  clumsily  rolled  into  a  bundle. 
This  is  the  sort  of  "bed"  used  among  the  poor  of 
Eastern  countries.  He  is  but  half  clad  in  a  gar- 
ment which  slips  from  his  shoulders,  showing  his 
emaciated  form.  The  face  is  sharpened  by  suffer- 
ing ;  he  is  altogether  a  strange  and  repulsive  figure. 
Like  the  beggar  who  lay  in  St.  Martin's  path  he 
represents  a  degraded  class  of  humanity. 

He  leans  now  towards  his  unknown  friend  in  a 
pitiable  effort  to  express  his  gratitude.  The  eyes 
have  a  look  of  dumb  devotion  like  those  of  a  faith- 
ful dog.  He  lays  one  hand  humbly  upon  his 
breast.  Jesus  turns  to  the  poor  creature  with  an 
expression  of  infinite  compassion.  He  reads  the 
man's  heart  with  his  searching  glance.  Thanks  he 
does  not  need  ;  his  first  care  is  to  send  the  man  forth 
to  beo[in  life  anew. 

^  There  was  another  case  of  Christ's  healing  a  paralytic,  but  as  on 
that  occasion  the  sick  man's  bed  was  let  down  through  the  roof  into  a 
house,  the  incident  does  not  fit  the  picture  so  well  as  that  of  Beth- 
esda. 


N 


■^5 


CHRIST  AND   THE   PARALYTIC  77 

The  head  of  the  Saviour  is  painted  after  the  ideal 
portrait  which  has  been  handed  down  from  genera- 
tion to  generation  since  the  early  days  of  Christian- 
ity. The  oval  face  with  classical  features,  the  full 
beard,  the  long  hair  parted  in  the  middle,  such  are 
the  familiar  features  which  we  have  all  come  to  asso- 
ciate with  the  person  of  Jesus.  Yet  notwithstand- 
ing this  general  similarity  in  the  many  pictures  of 
Christ,  every  great  artist  has  brought  out  something 
different  in  the  face. 

It  was  Titian's  peculiar  glory  to  show  the  intel- 
lectual side  of  our  Lord's  character  as  no  other  Italian 
had  done.  Van  Dyck,  with  cliaracteristic  admiration 
for  the  great  Venetian,  followed  his  example.  If 
we  compare  our  illustration  with  Titian's  Christ  of 
the  Tribute  Money  ^  we  shall  see  how  closely  the 
former  imitates  the  latter.  Yet,  as  no  man  of  imagi- 
nation can  copy  exactly  another's  work.  Van  Dyck's 
ideal  of  Christ  is  less  ascetic  than  Titian's  and 
somewhatniiore  benign.  In  both  pictures  the  pure 
countenance  of  the  Saviour  is  sharply  contrasted 
with  the  coarse  face  beside  him. 

We  are  interested  to  read  on  in  St.  John's  narra- 
tive the  sequel  of  the  story  illustrated  in  our  pic- 
ture. It  happened  to  be  the  Sabbath  day,  and,  as 
the  restored  paralytic  passed  through  the  city,  the 
Jews  said  unto  him  :  "  It  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to 
carry  thy  bed." 

"  He  answered    them.  He  that  made  me  whole, 

•  See  Chapter  VIII.  of  the  volume  ou  Titian  in  the  Riverside  Art 
Series. 


78  VAN  DYCK 

the  same  said  unto  me,  Take  up  thy  bed,  and 
walk.  Then  asked  they  him,  What  man  is  that 
which  said  unto  thee.  Take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk-'-^ 
And  he  that  was  healed  wist  not  who  it  was :  for 
Jesus  had  conveyed  himself  away,  a  multitude  being 
in  that  place. 

"  Afterward  Jesus  findeth  him  in  the  temple  and 
said  unto  him.  Behold,  thou  art  made  whole :  sin 
no  more,  lest  a  worse  thing-  come  unto  thee.  The 
man  departed,  and  told  the  Jews  that  it  was  Jesus^ 
which  had  made  him  whole." 


XIV 

PHILIP,    LORD    WHARTON 

Philip,  Lord  Wharton,  was  an  English  noble- 
man of  nearly  the  same  age  as  the  Duke  of  Lennox, 
and  the  two  were  painted  by  Van  Dyck  at  about 
the  same  time.  In  both  young  men  are  apparent 
the  same  signs  of  gentle  birth  and  breeding,  a 
dignity  of  bearing,  and  a  repose  of  manner  char- 
acteristic of  their  class.  That  they  were  quite 
different  in  essential  character,  however,  we  shall 
presently  see. 

Lord  Wharton  was  the  fourth  baron  of  his  family 
and  the  second  of  the  name  Philip.  He  succeeded 
to  his  title  as  he  was  entering  his  teens,  and  at  the 
age  of  UHieteen  he  had  become  one  of  the  most 
attractive  figures  at  the  court  of  Charles  I.  In  this 
year  he  married  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  Sir  Row- 
land Wandesford.  It  was  in  honor  of  this  occasion 
that  the  portrait  of  our  illustration  was  painted. 

Of  a  lover  so  handsome  and  graceful,  the  pro- 
mised bride  may  well  have  been  proud.  His  dress 
is  rich  and  picturesque  :  the  jacket  is  of  violet  vel- 
vet, the  mantle  of  yellow  satin,  and  the  costume  is 
set  off  by  delicate  laces  at  the  throat  and  wrists. 
These  were  days  when  the  men  vied  with  women  in 
fondness  for  finery. 


80  VAN  DYCK 

Lord  Wharton  was  at  this  time  on  terms  of 
friendly  intimacy  Avith  the  king  and  queen.  It  was 
a  flattering  mark  of  royal  favor  when  the  king  pre- 
sented the  young  courtier  with  two  full-length  por- 
traits of  himself  and  of  Queen  Henrietta,  painted 
by  Van  Dyck.  Perhaps  the  artistic  tastes  they  had 
in  common  formed  the  bond  of  friendship  between 
them.  Lord  Wharton,  it  appears,  admired  Van 
Dyck's  portrait  work  almost  as  much  as  King 
Charles.  On  his  second  marriage,  five  years  later, 
he  employed  the  artist  to  paint  a  number  of  family 
portraits.  He  prized  these  so  highly  that  he  built 
a  gallery  specially  for  them  in  his  new  house  at 
Winchendon. 

The  time  soon  came  when  more  strenuous  ques- 
tions occupied  him.  The  contest  between  the  king 
and  the  Parliament  brought  every  Englishman  to  a 
parting  of  the  ways.  Lord  Wharton  was  a  Puritan, 
and  took  a  decided  stand  on  the  side  of  Parliament. 
His  personal  relations  with  the  king  were  outweighed 
by  his  sense  of  patriotic  duty. 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  he  entered  the 
Parliamentary  army,  serving  successively  as  colonel 
of  a  regiment  of  foot,  and  as  a  captain  of  a  troop  of 
horse.  He  took  part  in  the  battle  of  Edgehill,  and 
was  brought  into  considerable  prominence  at  this 
time.  In  a  famous  speech  made  soon  afterwards,  he 
charged  the  king's  nephew.  Prince  Rupert,  with  gross 
"  inhumanity  and  barbarousness  "  during  the  course 
of  the  battle.  Evidently  where  his  mind  was  made 
up,  Lord  Wharton  was  a  strong  partisan. 


From  carbon  print  bj  Braun,  Clement  &  Co. 

PHILIP,    LORD  WHARTON 
Hermitage  Gallery,  St.  Petersburg 


John  Andrew  h  Son,  Sa. 


PHILIP,   LORD   WHARTON  83 

Of  this  we  should  suspect  nothing  from  our  por- 
trait. It  is  hard  to  imagine  that  this  beardless  young 
courtier,  so  suave  and  amiable  in  appearance,  will 
ten  years  later  be  fighting  sternly  against  his  king. 
Here  his  thoughts  seem  to  be  wholly  romantic  :  his 
eyes  have  the  dreamy  expression  of  an  expectant 
lover.  His  is  surely  a  knightly  soul  unstained  by 
worldliness.  The  face  is  of  that  perfect  oval  ad- 
mired by  artists  as  the  highest  standard  of  beauty. 
Taste  and  refinement  are  the  most  striking  qualities 
one  reads  in  it ;  the  mouth  is  the  most  individual 
feature,  small  and  modelled  in  delicate  curves.  Yet 
with  all  its  sweetness,  those  firmly  closed  lips  sug- 
gest tenacity  of  opinion  and  strength  of  will. 

As  the  event  proved,  Lord  Wharton  was  a  man 
of  uncompromising  political  opinions.  He  was  at 
one  time  committed  to  the  Tower  on  a  charge  of 
contempt  of  the  House.  In  his  long  and  active  life 
he  saw  England  pass  through  many  changes.  He 
was  an  old  man  when  the  last  of  the  Stuart  kings 
(James  11.)  fled  from  England,  leaving  a  vacant 
throne.  Macaulay  tells  us  of  the  Whig  nobleman's 
speech  in  the  meeting  of  the  Lords  which  resulted 
in  the  invitation  to  William  and  Mary  of  Orange  to 
take  the  2"overnment.  He  knew  how  to  be  fair  as 
well  as  severe,  and  a  still  later  speech  is  recorded 
when  he  opposed  the  Abjuration  Bill.^  He  died  at 
the  age  of  eighty-five  in  1G98. 

1  This  bill  provided  that  no  person  should  sit  in  either  bouse  of 
Parliament  or  hold  any  office  without  making  declaration  that  he 
would  stand  by  William  and  Mary  against  James  and  his  adherents. 


84  VAN    DYCK 

There  are  other  portraits  by  Van  Dyck  more  vig- 
orous than  this,  but  none  perhaps  more  charming. 
As  we  have  seen  in  the  portrait  of  the  Duke  of  Len- 
nox, the  painter  was  nowhere  more  successful  than 
in  portraying  the  young  courtier.  We  recognize 
the  pose,  with  one  arm  akimbo,  as  a  favorite  device 
of  Van  Dyck.  While  in  some  cases  it  seems  arti- 
ficial, here  it  appears  to  be  an  attitude  which  the 
young  man  assumed  of  his  own  accord. 

On  his  left  arm  he  carries  a  tall  shepherd's  staff ; 
it  may  be  that  he  has  sometime  played  a  pastoral 
part  in  some  masque.  His  costume,  however,  does 
not  accord  with  such  a  part,  and  it  is  more  likely 
that  the  staff  is  held  merely  to  give  some  use  to  the 
left  hand.  We  note  in  another  illustration  that  the 
man  called  Richardot  holds  a  book,  with  his  hand  in 
a  similar  position. 

The  texture  painting  of  Lord  Wharton's  costume 
is  skilfully  rendered,  and  a  rich  satin  hanging  be- 
hind him  throws  a  part  of  the  figure  into  relief.  On 
the  other  side  is  a  glimpse  of  landscape  lighting  the 
composition  pleasantly  with  a  distant  view. 

Authorities.  —  Macaulay  :  History  of  England  ;  Doyle's  Official 
Baronage  of  England. 


XV 

THE    LAMENTATION    OVER    CHRIST 

A  GREAT  company  of  people  had  followed  Jesus 
to  his  crucifixion,  including-  not  only  his  enemies, 
but  his  friends.  The  beloved  disciple  John  was 
accompanied  by  Mary.  ''  And  many  women  were 
beholding  afar  off,  which  followed  Jesus  from  Gali- 
lee, ministering  unto  him ;  among'  which  was  Mary 
Magdalene,  and  Mary  the  mother  of  James  and 
Joses,  and  the  mother  of  Zebedee's  children. 

"  When  the  even  was  come  there  came  a  rich  man 
of  Arimathea  named  Joseph,  who  also  himself  was 
Jesus'  disciple.  He  went  to  Pilate  and  begged  the 
body  of  Jesus.  Then  Pilate  commanded  the  body 
to  be  delivered.  And  when  Joseph  had  taken  the 
body,  he  wrapped  it  in  a  clean  linen  cloth,  and  laid 
it  in  his  own  new  tomb  which  he  had  hewn  out  in 
the  rock :  and  he  rolled  a  great  stone  to  the  door 
of  the  sepulchre  and  departed."  ^ 

Dnrinof  all  this  time  two  at  least  of  the  orioinal 
company  of  women  had  lingered  near  while  the 
body  of  Jesus  was  taken  from  the  cross  and  made 
ready  for  burial.  Tliey  w^ere  the  mother  Mary  and 
Mary  Magdalene.  Even  after  Joseph's  task  was 
done  and  he  had  gone  his  way,  they  remained 
"  sitting  over  against  tlie  sepulchre." 

'  St.  Matthew,  chapter  xxvii.,  verses  55-60. 


86  VAN   DYCK 

It  is  not  unnatural  to  suppose  that  they  may  have 
had  some  share  in  the  preparation  of  the  body. 
Nicodemus,  as  we  learn  elsewhere,  had  brought  a 
mixture  of  myrrh  and  aloes,  which  it  was  the  custom 
df  the  Jews  to  use  in  burial/  Both  men  must  have 
been  glad  of  the  presence  and  help  of  the  faithful 
women. 

Poets  and  painters  have  dwelt  much  on  these  sad 
moments,  supplying  from  the  imagination  the  details 
omitted  in  the  narrative.  The  women  must  at  times 
have  been  unable  to  restrain  their  tears  ;  natural 
grief  must  have  its  way.  Then  might  the  men  have 
left  them  awhile  alone  with  their  dead,  as  they 
busied  themselves  with  their  task. 

It  is  some  such  idea  as  this  wdiich  inspired  the 
painting  of  our  illustration.  The  mother  Mary  sup- 
ports the  head  of  her  son  upon  her  bosom;  Mary 
Magdalene  stoops  to  kiss  the  lifeless  hand  ;  St.  John 
approaches  at  one  side  with  a  mantle. 

The  body  of  Christ,  wrapped  in  a  cloth,  has  been 
laid  upon  a  rock  in  a  cavern.  The  agony  of  his 
cruel  death  is  past,  and  the  face  is  calm  as  of  one 
who  sleeps.  The  figure  is,  as  we  have  seen  it  on 
the  cross,  robust  and  well  knit.  Only  the  nail 
prints  in  hands  and  feet  show  the  manner  of  his 
dying.  On  the  ground  beside  him  is  a  basin  with 
a  sponge,  surrounded  by  tokens  of  the  crucifixion, 
the  crown  of  thorns,  the  nails,  and  the  superscrip- 
tion. 

We  see   in  the   Madonna  the   same   stately  and 

*  St.  John,  chapter  xix.,  \erse  39. 


from  carbon  print  bj  Braun,  ClSment  &  Co. 

THE   LAMENTATION   OVER   CHRIST 
Antwerp  Musatm 


John  Andrew  £  Sod,  Sc 


THE   LAMENTATION   OVER   CHRIST  89 

beautiful  woman  who  carried  her  babe  en  the 
journey  to  Egypt.  Her  veil  is  now  drawn  well  over 
her  head,  entirely  concealing  her  hair.  She  has 
borne  the  cares  of  life  with  courage,  and  the  years 
have  touched  her  face  but  liohtlv.  Even  in  the 
hour  of  anguish  she  lifts  her  eyes  to  heaven  with 
resignation,  yet  one  hand  is  extended  with  a  gesture 
which  seems  to  implore  mercy. 

Mary  Magdalene  is  a  much  younger  woman. 
She  has  peculiar  reason  for  her  devotion  to  Jesus, 
for  he  saved  her  from  a  strange  fate.^  Her  impul- 
sive and  lovino;  nature  is  now  overwhelmed  with 
grief.  Her  rich  costume  is  in  disorder,  and  her  hair 
falls  in  loose  locks  over  her  shoulders.  Her  lovely 
face  is  very  sad.  Half  kneeling,  she  presses  her 
lips  to  the  wound  in  the  left  hand.  Her  attitude 
and  manner  are  full  of  humility,  as  if  she  felt  her- 
self unworthy  to  approach  too  near. 

St.  John  regards  the  group  with  gentle  sympathy. 
He  is  speken  of  as  "  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved," 
so  intimate  was  the  relation  between  them.  To  his 
care  Jesus  intrusted  the  Mother  Mary,  and  he  now 
remains  near  as  one  of  the  few  most  deeply  be- 
reaved. He  is  very  young,  with  a  sensitive  face  and 
delicately  cut  features. 

The  subject  of  the  picture  is  one  which  Van 
Dyck  treated  in  several  compositions.  The  Flem- 
ish title  is  "  Nood  Godes,"  the  suffering  of  God. 
The  Italians  call  it  the  Pieta,  which  means,  com- 
passion.    One  of  the  most  celebrated  works  of  art 

^  St.  Luke,  chapter  viii.,  verse  2. 


90 


VAN   DYCK 


devoted  to  the  theme  is  the  marble  group  in  Rome 
by  Michelangelo/  Van  Dyck  must  have  seen  this 
work  on  his  visit  to  the  Eternal  City,  and  was  no 
doubt  inspired  in  some  measiu-e  by  its  grandeur. 
We  notice  that  in  his  picture  the  Mother  extends 
her  left  hand  in  a  gesture  similar  to  that  of  the 
marble  fio-ure. 

1  See  Chapter  VI.  in  the  volume  ou  Michelangelo  iu  the  Riverside 
Art  Series. 


XVI 

PORTRAIT    OF   VAN   DYCK 

The  painter  Van  Dyck  was  tlie  son  of  a  rioh 
merchant  of  Antwerp,  and  lacked  no  opportunities 
for  the  training:  of  his  artistic  shifts.  He  was  fortu- 
nate  also  in  meeting  ready  appreciation  wherev^er  he 
went.  In  Italy,  in  Flanders,  and  finally  in  England, 
his  painting's  were  highly  valued.  His  life  was 
passed  amid  luxurious  surroundings,  in  the  society 
of  noblemen  and  princes.  His  was  a  brilliant  and 
successful  career. 

Our  portrait  frontispiece  was  painted  during  his 
residence  in  England,  when  he  was  about  forty  years 
of  age.  He  is  described  as  short  in  stature,  with  a 
slender  figure.  His  hands  were  long,  with  the 
straiofht  sensitive  finoers  of  the  artist.  He  had  a 
fresh  delicate  face,  with  well-cut  features,  and  light 
chestnut-colored  hair,  which  he  wore  long,  like  the 
English  Cavaliers.  The  uj^turned  mustache  and 
small  pointed  beard  were  also  fashionable  among 
the  English  nobility,  as  we  infer  from  the  portrait 
of  Charles  I. 

The  face  has  the  characteristic  qualities  of  the 
artistic  nature,  the  high  forehead,  the  dreamy  eyes, 
and  the  pensive  expression.  The  head  is  lifted  a 
little,  in  an  imaginative  pose.  We  should  know 
tliis  man  at  once  for  a  poet  or  a  painter. 


92  VAN   DYCK 

It  must  be  confessed  that  we  do  not  find  much 
strength  of  character  in  the  face.  Van  Dyck  indeed 
lacked  the  nobler  qualities  of  manliness,  and  was 
decidedly  worldly  in  his  tastes.  He  lived  in  princely 
magnificence  in  his  house  at  Blackfriars,  spending 
money  lavishly.  A  biographer  tells  how  "  he  always 
went  magnificently  Drest,  had  a  numerous  and  gal- 
lant Equipage,  and  kept  so  noble  a  Table  in  his 
Appartment  that  few  Princes  were  more  visited  or 
better  serv'd." 

To  maintain  this  expensive  establishment  the 
painter  was  obliged  to  devote  his  mornings  to  hard 
work  in  his  studio.  The  nights  were  spent  in  ban- 
quets and  revelry.  Naturally  his  health  gave  way 
under  the  strain  of  this  double  life.  While  he  still 
cherished  ambitious  projects  for  greater  works  of 
art,  he  sickened  and  died  in  London  at  the  age 
of  forty-two. 

Two  years  before  this  he  had  married  an  English 
lady,  Mary  Ruthven,  and  they  had  one  child,  a 
daughter. 

Our  frontispiece  is  a  detail  of  a  double  portrait 
representing,  in  half-length  figures,  the  painter  and 
a  patron,  John  Digby,  Earl  of  Bristol. 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY  OF  PROPER  NAMES 
AND  FOREIGN  WORDS 


The  Diacritical  Marks  given  are  tliose  found  in  the  latest  edition  of  Webster's  Inter< 
lational  Dictionary. 

EXPLANATION   OF  DIACRITICAL  MARKS. 

A  Dash  (")  above  tlie  vowel  denotes  the  long  sound,  as  in  fate,  eve,  time,  note,  use. 
A  Dash  and  a  Dot  C)  above  the  vowel  denote  tlie  same  sound,  less  prolonged. 
A  Curve  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  short  sound,  as  in  Sdd,  Snd,  111,  odd,  up. 
A  Dot  (■)  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  obscure  sound  of  a  in  past,  abate,  America. 
A  Double  Dot  (")  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  broad  sound  of  a  in  fatlier,  alms. 
A  Curve  (_)  below  the  vowels  e  and  o  denotes  an  obscure  sound  similar  to  that  of  ' 
but  usually  shorter. 
A  Double  Dot  (__)  below  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  sound  of  a  in  ball. 
A  Wave  (~)  above  the  vowel  e  denotes  the  sound  of  e  in  her. 
A  Circumflex  Accent  (^)  above  the  vowel  o  denotes  the  sound  of  o  in  bSrn. 
A  Dot  (.)  below  the  vowel  u  denotes  the  sound  of  u  in  the  French  language. 
N  indicates  that  the  preceding  vowel  has  the  French  nasal  tone. 
Q  and  K  denote  the  guttural  sound  of  ch  in  the  German  language. 
th  denotes  the  sound  of  th  in  the,  this. 
^  sounds  like  s. 
-e  sounds  like  k. 
§  sounds  like  z. 
g  is  hard  as  in  get. 
g  is  soft  as  in  gem. 


Amiens  (a-me-^N'). 
Andreas  (an-dra'as). 
Anne  (an). 
Antbony  (an'to-ni). 
Antwerp  (Snt'wgrp). 
Arimathea  (ar-i-ma-the'a), 
Assisi  (a-se'se). 
Astolat  (as'to-lat). 
Athens  (ath'enz). 

Bedloe  (bed'lo). 

Belgium  (bel'jT-um). 

Bentivoglio  (ben-te-vol'yo). 

Bethesda  (be-thez'da). 

Betb'lehera. 

Biographie    Nationale     (b6-o-gra-fe' 

na-ss-o-nal). 
Blackfriars  (blak'fri-6rz). 
Bologna  (bo-lon'ya). 


Bristol  (bris'tgl). 
Brussels  (brus'elz). 
Bnckingbam  (bQk'ing-am). 

Cfesar  (se'zar). 

Calvary  (kal'va-ri). 

Carmine  (Ttar'me-na). 

Cavaliers  (kav-a-lerz'). 

Caxton  (kaks'tun). 

Cecilia  (se-sil  i-a). 

Colyns  de  Nole  (ko-laN'  dg  nol) 

Constantine  (kon'stan-tin). 

Crom'well. 

Crowe  (kro)> 

Cii'pid. 

Cust,  Lionel  (li'o-nel  kust). 

Dffidalus  (ded'a-lus  or  de'da-liis) 
Digby  (dig'bi). 


94 


VAN  DYCK 


D'Israeli  (diz-ra'li). 
Doyle  (doil). 
Dresden  (drez'dgn). 

Edgehill  {ej'bil). 
Egypt  (e'jipt). 
Elizabeth  (e-liz'a-beth). 
Epliesians  (e-fe'zhanz). 
Eugenia  (u-je'ni-a). 

Flanders  (flan  dgrz). 
Flor'ence. 
Fortiina'tiis. 

Franciscan  (fran-sis'kan). 
frere  (frar). 
Fromentin  (fr&-moN-taN'). 

Galilee  (gal'i-le). 
Genoa  (jeu'o-a). 

flarapton  (hamp'tgn). 

Heirkte  (hlrk'te). 

Henriet'ta  Mari'a. 

Her'Qd. 

Honi  soit  qui  mal  y  pense  (on-e'  swS, 

ke  niiil  e  paNs). 
Hudson,  Geoffrey  (jef'fri  liud'sQn). 

Icaria  (i-ka'ri-a). 
Icarus  (ik'a-rus). 
Italy  (Tt'a-li). 

Jacques  (zhak). 
Ja'mg-son. 
Jerusalem. 
Joses  (jo'sez). 
JudsBa  (ju-de'a). 

Knackfuss  (kniik'fobs). 
Kugler  (kobo'Igr). 

Laud  (lad), 
Lely  (le'li). 
Len'nQx. 
Louvre  (lob'vr). 
LUbke  (lub'k§). 

Macaulay  (ma-ka'li)« 
Madon'na. 


Magdalene  (mag'da-len). 

Masaccio  (ma-sat' cbo). 

M^dicis,  Marie  de  (ma-re'  dS  ma-de 

ses'). 
Metamor'phoseg. 
Michelangelo  (me-kel-an'ja-lo). 
Minos. 

Naseby  (naz'bi). 
Netherlands  (neth'Sr-lantfz). 
Newcastle  (niL'kasl). 
Nicodemus  (nik-o-de'mQs). 
Nood  Godes  (not  go'des). 
Notre  Dame  (no  tr  dam). 


Ober-Ammergau 

gow). 
Ovid  (oy'id). 


(o'bSr      6jn'mS( 


Pad'ua. 

Palatine  (para-tta). 

Palgr'mo. 

Par'adise. 

Parliamentarians      (par-li-men-ta'ri- 

anz). 
Pellegrino,  Monte  (mon'ta  pel-la-g^e'- 

no). 
Pesaro  (pil-sii'ro). 
Pev'eril. 

Phillips,  Claude  (klad  fil'ips). 
Pietk  (pe-a-tii'). 
Plantin  (plaN-taN'). 
Pontius  Pilate  (pon'shi-us  pi'lat). 
Portuguese  (por'tu-gez). 
Puritans  (pii'ri-tanz). 

Raphael  (ra'ffi-el). 
RejTiolds  (ren'glz). 
Richardot,  Jean  Grusset  (zhaN  grus 

sa'  re-shar-do'). 
RTch'niond. 
Rosalia  (ro-za'li-a). 
Rubens  (roo'benz). 
Rupert  (rob'pert). 
Ruth'ven. 

Samothraee  (sam's-thras). 
Scone  (skobn). 
Sheffield  (shef  eld). 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY 


95 


Sicilians  (sT-sil'i-anz  or  si-sil'yanz). 

fcjicily  (sis'i-lij, 

Strickland. 

Stu'art. 

Thames  (temz), 
Titian  (tish'an). 
Toulouse  (too-lobz'). 
Tours  (toor). 

Van  Balen. 

Van  der  Geest  (van  dar  gast). 
Van  Dyck  (van  dik). 
Vatican  (vat'i-kau), 
Vaughn  (vjia). 


Venetian  (ve-ne'shan). 
von  lianke  (fon  ran' kg). 

Wake  (wilk). 

Waudesford,       Rowland       (ro'land 

wonz'fQi-d). 
Warwick  (war'ik). 
Went'worth. 
Wharton. 
Wiu'cliendon. 
Windsor  (win'zQr). 
Woerman  (wobr'miin). 
Wolt'man. 

Zebedee  (zeb'5-de)» 
Zeus  (zus). 


RExMBRANDT 
16UG-1GG9 


MaiaoD  AJ.  Braun  i-  Ci«.,  Photo.  Julji  AuJttw  i  Son.  So. 

REMBRANDT   VAN    RYN    (BY    HIMSELF) 

Na/io>ial  Gallery.  Lo>idoii 


JACOB  WRESTLING  WITH  THE  ANGEL 

The  history  of  tlie  Old  Testament  patriarch  Ja- 
cob reads  like  a  romance.  He  was  the  younger  of 
the  two  sons  of  Isaac,  and  was  at  a  areat  disadvan- 
tage  on  this  account.  Among  his  people  the  eldest 
son  always  became  the  family  heir  and  also  received 
the  choicest  blessing  from  the  father,  a  privilege 
coveted  as  much  as  wealth.  In  this  case  there- 
fore the  privileged  son  was  Jacob's  brother  Esau. 
Jacob  resented  keenly  the  inequality  of  his  lot ;  and 
his  mother  sympathized  with  him,  as  he  was  her 
favorite.  A  feeling  of  enmity  grew  up  between 
the  brothers,  and  in  the  end  Jacob  did  Esau  a  great 
wrong.   ^ 

One  day  Esau  came  in  from  hunting,  nearly 
starved,  and  finding  his  younger  brother  cooking 
some  lentils,  begged  a  portion  of  it  for  himself. 
Jacob  seized  the  chance  to  make  a  sharp  bargain. 
He  offered  his  brother  the  food  —  whicii  is  called  in 
the  quaint  Bible  language  a  "  mess  of  pottage  "  — 
making  him  promise  in  return  that  he  would  let 
their  father  of'ive  his  blessino-  to  the  youno-er  instead 
of  the  older  son.  Esau  was  a  careless  fellow,  too 
hungry  to  think  what  he  was  saying,  and  so  read- 
ily yielded. 


2  REMBRANDT 

But  tlioiioh  Esau  mio-lit  sell  his  birthrio-ht  in  this 
fashion,  the  father  would  not  have  been  willing  to 
give  the  blessing  to  the  younger  son,  had  it  not 
been  for  a  trick  planned  by  the  mother.  The  old 
man  was  nearly  blind,  and  knew  his  sons  apart  by 
the  touch  of  their  skin,  as  Esau  had  a  rough,  hairy 
skin  and  Jacob  a  smooth  one.  The  mother  put 
skins  of  kids  upon  Jacob's  hands  and  neck  and 
bade  him  go  to  his  father  pretending  to  be  Esau, 
and  seek  his  blessing.  The  trick  was  successful, 
and  when  a  little  later  Esau  himself  came  to  his 
father  on  the  same  errand,  he  found  that  he  had 
been  superseded.  Naturally  he  was  very  angry,  and 
vowed  vengeance  on  his  brother.  Jacob,  fearing 
for  his  life,  fled  into  a  place  called  Padanaram. 

In  this  place  he  became  a  prosperous  cattle  farmer 
and  o-rew  verv  rich.  He  married  there  also  and 
had  a  large  family  of  children.  After  fourteen 
years  he  bethought  himself  of  his  brother  Esau  and 
the  oreat  wrono-  he  had  done  him.  He  resolved  to 
remove  his  family  to  his  old  home,  and  to  be  recon- 
ciled with  his  brother.  Hardly  daring  to  expect  to 
be  favorably  received,  he  sent  in  advance  a  large 
number  of  cattle  in  three  droves  as  a  gift  to  Esau. 
Then  he  awaited  over  night  some  news  or  message 
from  his  brother.  In  the  nio-ht  a  strangr-e  adven- 
ture  befell  him.  This  is  the  way  the  story  is  told  in 
the  book  of  Genesis.^ 

"  There  wrestled  a  man  with  him  until  the  break- 
ing  of   the  day.     And  when  he  saw  that  he  pre- 

1  Genesis,  chapter  xxxii.  verses  "i-t-Sl. 


1 

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^^^K.:- 

j^i^ 

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1 

Fr.  Hanfstaengl,  Photo.  .folm  Auiirtw  a.  ftoii,  Sc, 

JACOB    WRKSTLIXC;    WIJII    THE   ANGEL 
Bcrlui  Gallijry 


JACOB   WRESTLING    WITH   THE   ANGEL  5 

vailed  not  ag-ainst  him,  lie  touched  the  hollow  of  his 
thioh  ;  and  the  hollow  ot*  Jacob's  thioh  was  out 
of  joint,  as  he  wrestled  with  him.  And  he  said, 
'  Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh.'  And  he  said, 
'  I  will  not  let  thee  go,  except  thou  bless  me.'  And 
he  said  unto  him,  '  What  is  thy  name  ?  '  And  he 
said,  '  Jacob.'  And  he  said,  '  Thy  name  shall  be 
called  no  more  Jacob,  but  Israel  ;  for  as  a  prince 
hast  thou  power  with  God  and  with  men,  and  hast 
prevailed.'   .   .   .   And  he  blessed  him  there. 

"  And  Jacob  called  the  name  of  the  place  Peniel  : 
for  I  have  seen  God  face  to  face,  and  my  life  is 
preserved.  And  as  he  passed  over  Penuel,  the  sun 
rose  upon  him  and  he  halted  upon  his  thigh  ;  "  that 
is,  he  walked  halt,  or  lame. 

The  crisis  in  Jacob's  life  was  passed,  for  hardly 
had  he  set  forth  on  this  morning  when  he  saw  his 
brother  whom  he  had  wronoed  advancing;:  with  four 
hundred  men  to  meet  him.  "  And  Esau  ran  to 
meet  him^  and  embraced  him,  and  fell  on  his  neck 
and  kissed  him  :  and  they  we})t." 

So  w^ere  the  brothers  reconciled. 

The  picture  represents  Jacob  wrestling  with  his 
mysterious  adversary.  We  have  seen  from  his  his- 
tory how  determined  he  was  to  have  his  own  way, 
and  how  he  wrested  worldly  prosperity  even  from 
misfortunes.  Now  he  is  ecpially  determined  in  this 
higher  and  more  spiritual  conflict.  It  is  a  very 
real  struggle,  and  Jacob  has  prevailed  only  by  put- 
tinjr  forth  his  utmost  enero-y.  It  is  the  moment 
when  the  grand  angel,  pressing  one  knee  into  the 


6  REMBRANDT 

hollow  of  Jacob's  left  thigh  and  laying  his  hand  on 
his  right  side,  looks  into  his  face  and  grants  the 
blessins:  demanded  as  a  condition  for  release. 
Strong  and  tender  is  his  gaze,  and  the  gift  he  be- 
stows is  a  new  name,  in  token  of  the  new  charac- 
ter of  brotherly  love  of  which  this  victory  is  the 
beo-innino-. 

The  story  of  St.  Michael  and  the  Dragon,  which 
Raphael  has  painted,  stands  for  the  everlasting  con- 
flict between  good  and  evil  in  the  world.  There  is 
a  like  meaning  in  the  story  of  Jacob's  wrestling 
with  the  ano-el.  The  struo<rle  is  in  the  hnman  heart 
between  selfish  impulses  and  higher  ideals.  The 
day  when  one  can  hold  on  to  the  good  angel  long 
enough  to  win  a  blessing,  is  the  day  which  begins 
a  new  chapter  in  a  man's  life. 


II 

ISRAEL  BLESSING  THE  SONS  OF  JOSEPH 

When  Jacob  wrestled  witli  the  ang'el  he  receiv^ed 
a  new  name,  Israel,  or  a  prince,  a  champion  of 
God. 

Israel  became  the  founder  of  the  g'reat  Israelite 
nation,  and  from  his  twelve  sons  grew  u[)  the  twelve 
tribes  of  Israel,  among  whom  was  distributed  the 
country  now  called  Palestine.  Among  these  sons 
the  father's  favorite  was  Joseph,  who  was  next  to 
the  youngest.  This  favoritism  aroused  the  anger 
and  jealousy  of  the  older  brothers,  and  they  plotted 
to  get  rid  of  him.  One  day  when  they  were  all  out 
with  some  flocks  in  a  field  (piite  distant  from  their 
home,  tliqy  thought  they  were  rid  forever  of  the 
hated  Joseph  by  selling  him  to  a  company  of  men 
who  were  journeying  to  Egypt.  Tlicn  they  dipped 
the  lad's  coat  in  o'oat's  blood  and  carried  it  to 
Israel,  who,  su})posing  his  son  to  have  been  devoured 
by  a  wild  beast,  mourned  him  as  dead. 

When  Joseph  had  grown  to  maidiood  in  Egv])t,  a 
singular  chain  of  circumstances  brought  the  brothers 
tofjether  aoain.  There  was  a  sore  famine,  and 
Egypt  was  the  headquarters  for  the  sale  of  corn. 
Joseph  had  shown  himself  so  able  and  trustworthy 
that  he  was  i^iven  charge  of  selling  and  distributing^ 


8  REMBRANDT 

the  stores  o£  food.  So  -when  Israel's  older  sons 
came  from  their  home  to  Egypt  to  buy  corn  they 
had  to  apply  to  Joseph,  whom  they  little  suspected 
of  being  the  brother  they  had  so  cruelly  wronged. 
There  is  a  pretty  story,  too  long  to  rej^eat  here,  of 
how  Joseph  disclosed  himself  to  his  astonished  bre- 
thren, and  foro-ave  them  their  cruelty,  how  he  sent 
for  his  father  to  come  to  Egypt  to  live  near  him, 
how  there  was  a  joyful  reunion,  and  how  "  they  all 
Hved  happily  ever  after." 

When  the  time  drew  near  for  Israel  to  die,  he 
desired  to  bestow^  his  last  blessing  on  his  sons.  And 
first  of  all  his  beloved  son  Joseph  brought  him  his 
own  tw^o  boys,  Ephraim  and  Manasseh. 

Now  according  to  the  traditions  of  the  patriarchs, 
it  was  the  eldest  son  who  should  receive  the  choicest 
blessing  from  his  father.  Israel,  however,  had  found 
among  his  own  sons  that  it  was  a  younger  one, 
Joseph,  who  had  proved  himself  the  most  worthy  of 
love.  This  may  have  shaken  his  faith  in  the  wisdom 
of  the  old  custom.  Perhaps,  too,  he  remembered 
how  his  own  boyhood  had  been  made  unhappy  be- 
cause he  was  the  younger  son,  and  how  he  had  on 
that  account  been  tempted  to  deceit. 

Whatever  the  reason,  he  surprised  Joseph  at  the 
last  moment  by  showing  a  preference  for  the  younger 
of  the  two  grandsons,  Ephraim,  expressing  this  pre- 
ference by  laying  the  right  hand,  instead  of  the  left, 
on  his  head.  The  blessing  was  spoken  in  these 
solemn  words  :  "  God.  before  whom  my  fathers 
Abraham  and  Isaac  did  walk,   the  God  which  fed 


■Si 

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■f. 
is 

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■J.      s 


r     o 


5    -0 


Ui 


ISRAEL   BLESSING   THE   SONS   OF  JOSEPH  11 

me  all  my  life  long-  unto  this  day,  the  Aiigel  which 
redeemed  me  from  all  evil,  bless  the  lads." 

The  narrative  relates '  that  "  When  Joseph  saAv 
that  his  father  laid  his  right  hand  upon  the  head 
of  Ephraim,  it  displeased  him  ;  and  he  held  up  his 
leather's  hand,  to  remove  it  from  Ephraim's  head 
unto  Manasseh's  head.  And  Josejth  said  unto  his 
father,  '  Not  so,  my  father  :  for  this  is  the  first- 
born ;  put  thy  right  hand  upon  his  head.'  And 
his  father  refnsed,  and  said,  '  I  know  it,  my  son,  I 
know  it  :  he  also  shall  become  a  people,  and  he 
also  shall  be  o'reat  ;  but  truly  his  youni»er  brother 
shall  be  greater  than  ho,  and  his  seed  shall  become 
a  multitude  of  nations.'  And  he  blessed  them  that 
day,  saying,  '  In  thee  shall  Israel  bless,  saving,  God 
make  thee  as  Ephraim,  and  as  Manasseh;'  and  he 
set  Ephraim  before  Manasseh." 

As  we  compare  the  picture  witli  the  story,  it  is 
easy  to  identify  the  figures.  We  are  naturally  in- 
terested-r-in  Joseph  as  the  hero  of  so  many  romantic 
adventures.  As  a  high  Egyptian  official,  he  makes 
a  dignified  appearance  and  v/ears  a  lich  turban. 
His  face  is  gentle  and  amialjle,  as  we  should  expect 
of  a  loving-  son  and  foririvino-  ])rother. 

In  the  old  man  we  see  the  same  Jacob  who 
wrestled  by  night  with  the  Angel  and  was  redeemed 
from  his  life  of  selfishness.  The  same  strong  face  is 
here,  softened  by  sorrow  and  made  tender  l)y  love. 
The  years  have  cut  deep  lines  of  character  in  the 
forehead,  and  the  flowing  beard  has  become  snowy 
white. 

^  Genesis,  chapter  xlviii.   versos  17-20. 


12  REMBRANDT 

The  clying  patriarch  has  "  strengthened  himself," 
to  sit  up  on  the  bed  for  his  last  duty,  and  his  son 
Joseph  supports  him.  Tlie  children  kneel  together 
by  the  bedside,  the  little  Ephraim  bending  his 
fair  head  humbly  to  receive  his  grandfather's  right 
hand,  Manasseh  looking  up  alertly,  almost  resent- 
fully, as  he  sees  that  hand  passing  over  his  own 
head  to  his  brother's.  Joseph's  wife  Asenath,  the 
children's  mother,  stands  beyond,  looking  on  mus- 
ingly. We  see  that  it  is  a  moment  of  very  solemn 
interest  to  all  concerned.  Though  the  patriarch's 
eyes  are  dim  and  his  hand  trembles,  his  old  deter- 
mined spirit  makes  itself  manifest.  Joseph  is  in 
perplexity  between  his  filial  respect  and  his  solici- 
tude for  his  first-born.  He  puts  his  fingers  gently 
under  hii  father's  wrist,  trying  to  lift  tin?  hand  to 
the  other  head.  The  mother  seems  to  smile  as  if 
well  content.  Perhaps  she  shares  the  grandfather's 
preference  for  little  Ephraim. 

The  picture  is  a  study  in  the  three  ages  of  man, 
childhood,  manhood,  and  old  age,  brought  together 
by  the  most  tender  and  sacred  ties  of  human  life, 
in  the  circle  of  the  family. 


Ill 

THE  ANGEL  RAPHAEL  LEAVING  THE  FAMILY  OF  TOBIT 

The  story  of  ToMt  is  found  in  what  is  called  the 
Apocrypha,  that  is,  a  collection  of  books  written 
very  much  in  the  manner  of  the  Bible,  and  formerly 
bound  in  Bibles  between  the  Old  and  the  New 
Testament. 

The  story  goes  that  when  Enemessar,  King  of 
Assyria,  conquered  the  people  of  Israel,  he  led  away 
many  of  them  captive  into  Assyria,  among  them 
the  family  of  Tobit,  his  wife  Anna,  and  their  soi? 
Tobias.  They  settled  in  Nineveh,  and  Tobit,  being 
an  honest  man,  was  made  purveyor  to  the  king. 
That  is,  it  was  his  business  to  provide  food  for  the 
king's  household. 

In  this  office  he  was  able  to  lay  up  a  good  deal  of 
money,  which  he  placed  for  safe  keeping  in  the 
hands  of  Gabael,  an  Israelite  w^io  lived  at  Rages  in 
Media.  Tobit  was  a  generous  man,  and  he  did 
many  kind  deeds  for  his  less  fortunate  fellow  exiles  ; 
he  delighted  in  feeding  the  hungry  and  clothing  the 
naked. 

When  Sennacherib  was  king  of  Assyria,  many 
Jews  were  slain  and  left  lying  in  the  street,  and 
Tobit,  finding  their  neglected  bodies,  buried  them 
secretly.     One  night,  after  some  such  deed  of  mercy, 


14  REMBRANDT 

a  sad  affliction  befell  him.  White  films  came  over 
his  eyes,  causing"  total  blindness.  In  his  distress 
he  prayed  that  he  might  die,  and  began  to  make 
preparations  for  death.  He  called  his  son  Tobias 
to  him  and  gave  him  much  good  advice  as  to  his 
manner  of  life,  and  then  desired  him  to  go  to  Rages 
to  obtain  the  money  left  there  with  Gabael.  But 
Tobias  must  first  seek  a  guide  for  the  journey. 
"  Therefore,"  says  the  story,  "  when  he  Avent  to 
seek  a  man,  he  found  Raphael  that  was  an  angel. 
But  he  knew  not ;  and  he  said  unto  him,  '  Canst 
thou  o'o  with  me  to  Rasfes  ?  and  knowest  thou  those 
places  well  ?  '  To  whom  the  angel  said,  '  I  will  go 
with  thee,  and  I  know  the  way  well:  for  I  have 
lodsred  with  our  brother  Gabael.'  "  The  anoel  crave 
himself  the  name  Azarias.  "  So  they  went  forth 
both,  and  the  young  man's  dog  with  them." 

"As  they  went  on  their  journey,  they  came  in  the 
evening  to  the  river  Tigris,  and  they  lodged  there. 
And  when  the  young  man  went  down  to  Avash  him- 
self, a  fish  leaped  out  of  the  river,  and  would  have 
devoured  him.  Then  the  angel  said  unto  him, 
'  Take  the  fish.'  And  the  young  man  laid  hold  of 
the  fish,  and  drew  it  to  land.  To  whom  the  angel 
said,  '  Open  the  fish  and  take  the  gall,  and  put  it  up 
safelv.'  So  the  youno-  man  did  as  the  anoel  com- 
manded  him,  and  when  they  had  roasted  the  fish, 
they  did  eat  it :  then  they  both  went  on  their  way, 
till  they  drew  near  to  Eebatane.  Then  the  young 
man  said  to  the  angel,  '  Brother  Azarias,  to  what  use 
is  the  gall  of  the  fish?'    And  he  said  unto  him,  '  It 


Maiflon  Ad.  Braun  &  Cie.,  Photo. 


John  Andrew  i  Sod.  So. 


THE    ANGEL    RAPHAEL    LEAVING    THE    FAMU.V   OF    TOBIT 

The  Lo!n')-c\  Farts 


ANGEL  RAPHAEL  LEAVING  THE  EAMILY  OF  TOBIT    17 

is  good  to  anoint  a  man  that  hath  whiteness  in  his 
eyes,  and  he  shall  be  healed.'  " 

After  this  curious  incident  there  were  no  further 
adventures  till  they  cavne  to  Ecbatane.  Here  they 
lodged  with  Raguel,  a  kinsman  of  Tobit,  and  when 
Tobias  saw  Sara,  the  daughter,  he  loved  her  and 
determined  to  make  her  his  wife.  He  therefore  tar- 
ried fourteen  days  at  Ecbatane,  sending  iVzarias  on 
to  Rages  for  the  money.  This  delay  lengthened  the 
time  allotted  for  the  journey,  but  at  last  the  company 
drew  near  to  Nineveh,  —  Azarias  or  Raphael,  and 
Tobias,  with  the  bride,  the  treasure,  and  the  precious 
fishgall.  Raphael  then  gave  Tobias  directions  to  use 
the  gall  for  his  father's  eyes.  Their  arrival  was  the 
cause  of  great  excitement.  "  Anna  ran  forth,  and 
fell  upon  the  neck  of  her  son.  Tobit  also  went 
forth  toward  the  door,  and  stumbled  :  but  his  son 
ran  unto  him,  and  took  hold  of  his  father  :  and  he 
strake  of  the  gall  on  his  father's  eyes,  saying,  '  Be 
of  good  Irope,  my  father.'  And  when  his  eyes 
began  to  smart,  he  rubbed  them  ;  and  the  whiteness 
pilled  away  from  the  corners  of  his  eyes :  and  when 
he  saw  his  son,  he  fell  upon  his  neck." 

Now  Tobit  and  Tobias  were  full  of  gratitude  to 
Azarias  for  all  that  he  had  done  for  them,  and,  con- 
sulting together  as  to  how  they  could  reward  him, 
decided  to  give  him  half  the  treasure.  So  the  old 
man  called  the  angel,  and  said,  "  Take  half  of  all 
that  ye  have  brought,  and  go  away  in  safety." 
Then  Raphael  took  them  both  apart,  and  said  unto 
them,  "  Bless  God,  praise  him,  and  magnify  him,  and 


18  REMBRANDT 

praise  him  for  the  things  which  he  hath  done  unto 
you  in  the  sight  of  all  that  live." 

With  this  solemn  introduction  the  angel  goes  on 
to  tell  Tobit  that  he  had  been  with  him  when  he  had 
buried  his  dead  countrymen,  and  that  his  good  deeds 
were  not  hid  from  him,  and  that  his  pi'ayers  were 
remembered.  He  concludes  by  showing  who  he 
really  is. 

"  I  am  Raphael,  one  of  the  seven  holy  angeis, 
which  present  the  prayers  of  the  saints,  and  which 
go  in  and  out  before  the  glory  of  the  Holy  One. 

"  Then  they  were  both  troubled,  and  fell  upon 
their  faces  :  for  they  feared  God.  But  he  said  unto 
them,  '  Fear  not,  for  it  shall  go  well  with  you  ; 
praise  God  therefore.  For  not  of  any  favor  of 
mine,  but  by  the  will  of  our  God  I  came  ;  wherefore 
praise  him  for  ever.  All  these  days  I  did  appear 
unto  you ;  but  I  did  neither  eat  nor  drink,  but  ye 
did  see  a  vision.  Now  therefore  give  God  thanks  : 
for  I  go  up  to  him  that  sent  me.'  "  "  And  when 
they  arose,  they  saw  him  no  more." 

The  picture  shows  us  the  moment  when  the  angel 
suddenly  rises  from  the  midst  of  the  little  company 
and  strikes  out  on  his  flig-ht  throuo-h  the  air  like  a 
stronof  swimmer.  Tobit  and  Tobias  fall  on  their 
knees  without,  while  Anna  and  the  bride  Sara  stand 
in  the  open  door  with  the  frightened  little  dog 
cowering  beside  them.  The  older  people  are  over- 
come with  wonder  and  awe,  but  Tobias  and  Sara, 
more  bold,  follow  the  radiant  vision  with  rapturous 
gaze. 


IV 


THE    RAT    KILLER 


The  pictures  we  have  examined  thus  far  in  this 
collection  have  been  reproductions  from  Rem- 
brandt's paintings.  You  will  see  at  once  that  the 
picture  of  the  Rat  Killer  is  of  another  kind.  The 
figures  and  objects  are  indicated  by  lines  instead  of 
by  masses  of  color.  You  would  call  it  a  drawing-, 
and  it  is  in  fact  a  drawing  of  one  kind,  but  properly 
speaking,  an  etching.  An  etching  is  a  drawing 
made  on  copper  by  means  of  a  needle.  The  etcher 
first  covers  the  surface  <jf  the  metal  with  a  layer  of 
some  waxy  substance  and  draws  his  picture  through 
this  coating,  or  "  etching  ground,"  as  it  is  called. 
Next  he  immerses  the  copper  plate  in  an  acid  batii 
which  "  bites,"  or  orooves,  the  metul  alono-  the 
lines  he  has  drawn  without  affecting  the  parts  pro- 
tected by  the  etching  ground. 

The  plate  thus  has  a  picture  cut  into  its  surface, 
and  impressions  of  this  picture  may  be  taken  by  fill- 
ing the  lines  with  ink  and  pressing  wet  paper  to  the 
surface  of  the  plate.  You  will  notice  that  the  dif- 
ference between  the  work  of  an  engraver  and  that  of 
an  etcher  is  that  the  former  cuts  the  lines  in  his  })late 
with  engraving  tools,  while  the  latter  only  draws 
his  picture  on  the  plate  and  the  acid  cuts  the  lines. 


20  REMBRANDT 

The  word  etching  is  derived  from  the  Dutch  etzen^ 
and  the  most  famous  etchers  in  the  world  have  been 
amono^  Dutch  and  German  artists. 

Remhrandt  is  easily  first  of  these,  and  we  should 
have  but  a  limited  idea  of  his  work  if  we  did  not 
examine  some  of  his  pictures  of  this  kind.  Impres- 
sions  made  directly  from  the  original  plates,  over 
two  centuries  ago,  are,  of  course,  very  rare  and 
valuable,  and  are  carefully  preserved  in  the  great 
libraries  and  museums  of  the  world.  There  is  a 
collection  in  the  Museum  of  Fine  Arts,  Boston, 
wliere  this  etching  of  the  Rat  Killer  may  be  seen. 

The  Rat  Killer  is  one  of  many  subjects  from  the 
scenes  of  common  life  which  surrounded  the  artist. 
In  smaller  towns  and  villages,  then  as  well  as  now, 
there  were  no  large  shops  where  goods  were  to  be 
bought.  Instead,  all  sorts  of  peddlers  and  traveling 
mechanics  went  from  house  to  house  —  the  knife 
grinder,  the  ragman,  the  fiddler,  and  many  others. 
This  picture  of  the  Rat  Killer  suggests  a  very  odd 
occupation.  The  pest  of  rats  is,  of  course,  much 
greater  in  old  than  in  new  countries.  In  Europe, 
and  perhaps  particularly  in  the  northern  countries 
of  Holland  and  Germany,  the  old  towns  and  villages 
have  lonsf  been  infested  with  these  troublesome 
creatures. 

There  are  some  curious  lesfends  about  them.  One 
relates  how  a  certain  Bishop  Hatto,  as  a  judgment 
for  his  sins,  was  attacked  by  an  army  of  rats  which 
swam  across  the  Rhine  and  invaded  him  in  his 
island  tower,  where  they  made  short  work  of  their 


.■■>-     v'.'i^' 


Photographed  from  origiual  etcbiug 


John  Anilrfw  i  Son,  Sc. 


THE    RAT    KILLER 

Jl/iiseiiin  of  Fine  Aits,  Boston 


THE   RAT   KILLER  23 

victim.^  Another  tells  how  a  town  called  Hamelin 
was  overrun  with  rats  until  a  magic  piper  appeared 
who  so  charmed  them  with  his  enchanted  music  that 
they  gathered  about  him  and  followed  his  leading 
till  they  came  to  the  river  and  Avere  drowned.^ 

The  old  Rat  Killer  in  the  picture  looks  suspi- 
ciously like  a  magician.  It  seems  as  if  he  must 
have  bewitched  the  rats  which  crawl  friskily  about 
him,  one  perching  on  his  shoulders.  He  reminds 
one  of  some  ogre  out  of  a  fairy  tale,  with  his 
strange  tall  cap,  his  kilted  coat,  and  baggy  trousers, 
the  money  pouch  at  his  belt,  the  fur  mantle  flung 
over   one    shoulder,    and    the    fierce-lookino-    sword 


o 


danoflino"  at  his  side.  But  there  is  no  maoic  in 
his  way  of  killing  rats.  He  has  some  rat  poison 
to  sell  which  his  apprentice,  a  miserable  little  crea- 
ture, carries  in  a  large  box. 

The  picture  gives  us  an  idea  of  an  old  Dutch 
village  street.  The  cottages  are  built  very  low, 
with  steep  overhanging  roofs.  The  walls  are  of 
thick  masonry,  for  these  were  days  when  in  small 
villages  and  outlying  districts  "  every  man's  house 
was  his  castle,"  that  is,  every  man's  house  was  in- 
tended, first  of  all,  as  a  place  of  defense  against 
outlawry. 

The  entrance  doors  were  made  in  two  sections, 
an  upper  and  a  lower  part,  or  wing,  each  swinging 
on  its  own  hinges.  Whenever  a  knock  came,  the 
householder  could  open  the  upper  wing  and  address 

^  See  Southey's  poem,  Bis^hnp  Hatto. 

^  See  Browning's  poeiu,  The  Pled  Piper  of  Hamelin. 


24  REMBRANDT 

the  caller  as  through  a  window,  first  learning  who 
he  was  and  what  his  errand,  before  opening  the 
lower  part  to  admit  him.  Thus  an  unwelcome  in- 
truder could  not  press  his  way  into  the  house  by  the 
door's  being  opened  at  his  knock,  and  the  family 
need  not  be  taken  unawares.  In  many  of  our  mod- 
ern houses  we  see  doors  made  after  the  same  plan, 
and  known  as  "  Dutch  doors." 

The  cautious  old  man  in  the  picture  has  no  inten- 
tion of  being  imposed  upon  by  wandering  fakirs. 
He  has  opened  only  the  upper  door  and  leans  on 
the  lower  wing,  as  on  a  gate,  while  he  listens  to  the 
Rat  Killer's  story.  The  latter  must  have  a  marvel- 
lous tale  to  tell  of  the  effects  of  the  poison,  from  the 
collection  of  dead  rats  which  he  carries  as  trophies 
in  the  basket  fastened  to  the  long  pole  in  his  hand. 
But  the  householder  impatiently  pushes  his  hand 
back,  and  turns  away  as  if  with  disgust.  The 
apprentice,  grotesque  little  rat  himself,  looks  up 
rather  awestruck  at  this  grand,  turbaned  figure 
above  him. 


THE    PHILOSOPHER    IN    MEDITATION 

Ever  since  the  beginning-  of  human  history  there 
have  been  people  who  puzzled  their  brains  about  the 
reasons  of  things.  Why  things  are  as  they  are, 
whence  we  came,  and  whither  we  are  going  are  some 
of  the  perplexing  questions  they  have  tried  to 
answer.  Some  men  have  given  all  their  lives  to  the 
study  of  these  problems  as  a  single  occupation  or 
profession.  Among  the  ancient  Greeks,  who  were  a 
very  intellectual  nation,  such  men  were  quite  numer- 
ous and  were  held  in  o-reat  esteem  is  teachers. 
They  were  called  philosc^phers,  thai  is,  lovers  of 
wisdom,  and  this  word  has  been  passed  down  to  our 
own  times  in  various  modern  languages. 

In  the  passing  of  the  centuries  men  found  more 
and  more  subjects  to  think  about.  Some  studied 
the  movements  of  the  stars  and  tried  to  discover  if 
they  had  any  influence  in  human  affairs.  These  men 
were  called  astrologers,  and  they  drew  plans,  known 
as  horoscopes,  mapping  out  the  future  destiny  of 
persons  as  revealed  by  the  position  of  the  constella- 
tions. There  were  other  men  who  examined  the 
various  substances  of  which  the  earth  is  comjiosed, 
putting  them  together  to  make  new  things.  These 
were  alchemists,  and  their   great  ambition   was  to 


26  REMBRANDT 

find  some  preparation  which  wonlcl  change  baser 
metals  into  gold.  This  hoped-for  preparation  was 
spoken  of  as  the  "  philosopher's  stone." 

Now  modern  learning  has  changed  these  vague 
experiments  into  exact  science  ;  astronomy  has  re- 
placed astrology,  and  chemistry  has  taken  the  place  of 
alchemy.  Nevertheless  these  changes  were  hrought 
about  only  very  gradually,  and  in  the  ITtli  century, 
when  Rembrandt  lived  and  painted  this  picture,  a 
great  stir  was  made  by  the  new  ideas  of  astronomy 
taught  by  Galileo  in  Italy,  and  the  new  discoveries 
in  chemistry  made  by  Van  Helmont  in  Belgium. 
Many  philosophers  still  held  to  the  old  behefs  of 
astrology  and  alchemy. 

It  is  not  likely  that  Rembrandt  had  any  one 
philosopher  in  mind  as  the  subject  of  his  picture. 
That  his  philosoplier  is  something  of  a  scholar,  we 
judge  from  the  table  at  which  he  sits,  littered  with 
writino-  materials.  Yet  he  seems  to  care  less  for 
readino;  than  for  thinkino^,  as  he  sits  with  hands 
clasped  in  his  lap  and  his  head  sunk  upon  his  breast. 
He  wears  a  loose,  flowing  garment  like  a  dressing- 
gown,  and  his  bald  head  is  protected  by  a  small 
skull  cap.  His  is  an  ideal  place  for  a  philosopher's 
musings.  The  walls  are  so  thick  that  they  shut  out 
all  the  confusing  noise  of  the  world.  A  single 
window  lets  in  light  enough  to  read  by  through  its 
many  tiny  panes.  It  is  a  bare  little  room,  to  be  sure, 
with  its  ungarnished  walls  and  stone-paved  floor, 
but  if  a  philosopher  has  the  ordinary  needs  of  life 
supplied  he  wants  no  luxuries.    He  asks  for  nothing 


7U 


M 


A       ■> 


-J 


O 

Sl 

O 


THE   PHILOSOPHER   IN   MEDITATION  29 

more  than  quiet  and  uninterrupted  leisure  in  which 
to  pursue  his  meditations. 

Our  philosopher  is  well  taken  care  of  ;  for  while 
his  thouo'hts  are  on  hijiher  thino-s  and  eternal  truths, 
an  old  woman  is  busy  at  the  fire  in  the  corner. 
Evidently  she  looks  after  the  material  and  temporal 
thingfs  of  life.  She  kneels  on  the  hearth  and  hano^s 
a  kettle  over  the  cheerful  hlaze.  The  firelight  glows 
on  her  face  and  gleams  here  and  there  on  the  brasses 
hanging  in  the  chimney-piece  above.  Here  is  promise 
of  something  good  to  come,  and  when  the  philoso- 
pher is  roused  from  his  musings  there  will  be  a  hot 
supper  ready  for  him. 

There  are  two  mysteries  in  the  room  which  arouse 
our  curiosity.  In  the  wall  behind  the  philosopher's 
chair  is  a  low,  arched  door  heavily  built  with  large 
hinges.  Does  this  lead  to  some  subterranean  cavern, 
and  what  secret  does  it  contain  ?  Is  it  a  laboratory 
where,  with  alembic  and  crucible,  the  philosopher 
searches  the  secrets  of  alchemy  and  tries  to  find  the 
''philosopher's  stone  ?"  Is  some  hid  treasure  stored 
up  there,  as  precious  and  as  hard  to  reach  as  the 
hidden  truths  the  philosopher  tries  to  discover  ? 

At  the  right  side  of  the  room  a  broad,  winding 
staircase  rises  in  large  spirals  and  disappears  in  the 
gloom  above.  We  follow  it  wdth  wondering  eyes 
which  try  to  pierce  the  darkness  and  see  whither  it 
leads.  Perhaps  there  is  an  upper  chamber  with 
windows  open  to  the  sky  whence  the  philosopher 
studies  the  stars.  This  place  with  its  winding  stair- 
case would  be  just  such  an  observatory  as  an  astro* 


30  REMBRANDT 

loger  would  like.  Indeed  it  suggests  at  once  the 
tower  on  the  hillside  near  Florence  where  Galileo 
passed  his  declining  years. 

Our  philosopher,  too,  is  an  old  man  ;  his  hair  has 
been  whitened  by  many  winters,  his  face  traced  over 
with  many  lines  of  thought.  Even  if  his  problems 
have  not  all  been  solved  he  has  found  rich  satisfac- 
tion in  his  thinking ;  the  end  of  his  meditations  is 
peace.  The  day  is  drawing  to  a  close.  The  waning 
lioht  falls  throuofh  the  window  and  illumines  the 
philosopher's  venerable  face.  It  throws  the  upper 
spiral  of  the  stairway  into  bold  relief,  and  brings  out 
all  the  beautiful  curves  in  its  structure.  The  bare 
little  room  is  transfiofured.  This  is  indeed  a  fit 
dwelling-place  for  a  philosopher  whose  thoughts, 
penetrating  dark  mysteries,  are  at  last  lighted  by 
some  o'leams  of  the  ideal. 


VI 

THE    GOOD    SAMARITAN 

The  story  of  the  Good  Samaritan  was  related  hy 
Jesus  to  a  certain  lawyer  as  a  jjarable,  that  is,  a 
story  to  teach  a  moral  lesson.  The  object  was  to 
show  what  was  true  neighborly  conduct ;  and  this 
was  the  story  :  ^  — 

"  A  certain  man  went  down  from  Jerusalem  to 
Jericho,  and  fell  among  thieves,  which  stripped  him 
of  his  raiment,  and  wounded  him,  and  departed, 
leaving  him  half  dead.  And  by  chance  there  came 
down  a  certain  priest  that  way  ;  and  when  he  saw 
him,  he  passed  by  on  the  other  side.  And  likewise 
a  Levite,  when  he  was  at  the  place,  came  and  looked 
on  him,  and  passed  l)y  on  the  other  side. 

"  But  a  certain  Samaritan,  as  he  journeyed,  came 
where  he  was  :  and  when  he  saw  him,  he  had  com- 
passion on  him,  and  went  to  him,  and  bound  up  his 
wounds,  pouring  in  oil  and  wine,  and  set  him  on 
his  own  beast,  and  brought  him  to  an  inn,  and  took 
care  of  him.  And  on  the  morrow  when  he  departed, 
he  took  out  two  pence,  and  gave  them  to  the  host, 
and  said  unto  him,  '  Take  care  of  him  ;  and  whatso- 
ever thou  spendest  more,  when  I  come  again  I  wilJ 
repay  thee.'  " 

'  St.  Luke,  chapter  x.  verses  30-37. 


32  REMBRANDT 

The  point  of  the  story  is  very  plain,  and  when 
Jesus  asked  the  lawyer  which  one  of  the  three  pas- 
sers-by was  a  neighbor  to  the  wounded  man,  he  was 
forced  to  reply,  "  He  that  shewed  mercy."  Then 
said  Jesus  simply,  "  Go,  and  do  thou  likewise." 

Though  the  scene  of  the  story  is  laid  in  Pales- 
tine, it  is  the  sort  of  incident  which  one  can  imagine 
taking  place  in  any  country  or  period  of  time.  So 
it  seems  perfectly  proper  that  Rembrandt,  in  repre- 
senting the  subject,  should  show  us  an  old  Dutch 
scene.  The  etching  illustrates  that  moment  when 
the  Good  Samaritan  arrives  at  the  inn,  followed  by 
the  wounded  traveler  mounted  on  his  horse. 

The  building  is  a  quaint  piece  of  architecture  with 
arched  doors  and  windows.  That  it  was  built  with 
an  eye  to  possible  attacks  from  thieves  and  outlaws, 
we  may  see  from  the  small  windows  and  thick  walls 
of  masonry,  which  make  it  look  like  a  miniature  for- 
tress. This  is  a  lonely  spot,  and  inns  are  few  and 
far  between.  The  plaster  is  cracking  and  crum- 
bling from  the  surface,  and  the  whole  appearance  of 
the  place  does  not  betoken  great  thrift  on  the  part 
of  the  owners.  On  the  present  occasion,  during  the 
working  hours  of  the  day,  doors  and  windows  are 
open  after  the  hospitable  manner  of  an  inn. 

The  host  stands  in  the  doorway,  greeting  the 
strangers,  and  the  Good  Samaritan  is  explaining 
the  situation  to  him.  In  the  mean  time  the  inn  ser- 
vants have  come  forward  :  the  hostler's  boy  holds 
the  horse  by  the  bridle,  wdiile  a  man  lifts  off  the 
wounded  traveler. 


Pbotographod  from  original  etching 


John  Andrew  i  Son,  Sc. 


THE    UOOU    SAMARITAN 
XIusciDii  of  Fine  Arts,  Boston 


THE   GOOD   SAMARITAN  35 

About  the  dooryard  are  the  usual  signs  of  life. 
In  the  rear  a  woman  draws  water  from  a  well,  lower- 
ing the  bucket  from  the  end  of  a  long  well-sweep, 
heedless  of  the  stir  about  the  door.  Fowl  scratch 
about  in  search  of  food,  and  there  is  a  dog  at  one 
side.  Some  one  witliin  looks  with  idle  curiosity 
from  the  window  into  the  yard.  It  is  little  touches 
like  these  which  give  the  scene  such  vividness  and 
reality. 

There  is  also  a  remarkable  expressiveness  in  the 
figures  which  tells  the  story  at  a  glance.  You  can 
see  just  what  the  Good  Samaritan  is  saying,  as  he 
gestures  with  his  left  hand,  and  you  can  guess  tlie 
inn-keeper's  reply.  Already  he  has  put  the  prof- 
fered money  into  the  wallet  he  carries  at  his  belt, 
and  listens  attentively  to  the  orders  given  him.  He 
may  privately  w^onder  at  his  guest's  singular  kind- 
ness to  a  stranger,  but  with  him  business  is  business, 
and  his  place  is  to  carry  out  his  guest's  wishes. 

You  see  how  the  hostler's  boy  mao-nifies  his  office, 
swaggering  with  legs  wide  apart.  Even  the  feather 
in  his  cap  bristles  with  importance.  This  bit  of 
comedy  contrasts  with  the  almost  tragic  expression 
of  the  wounded  man.  The  stolid  fellow  who  lifts 
him  seems  to  hurt  him  very  much,  and  he  clasps  his 
hands  in  an  agony  of  pain.  He  seems  to  be  telling 
the  gentleman  at  the  window  of  his  recent  misfor- 
tune. 

Tc  study  the  picture  more  critically,  it  will  be 
interesting  to  notice  how  the  important  figures  are 
massed  together  in  the  centre,  and  how  the  compo- 


36  REMBRANDT 

sition  is  built  into  a  pyramid.  Draw  a  line  from 
the  inn-keeper's  head  down  the  stairway  at  the  left, 
and  follow  the  outline  of  the  Good  Samaritan's 
right  shoulder  along  the  body  of  the  wounded 
traveler,  and  you  have  the  lignre.  This  pyramidal 
form  is  emphasized  again  by  the  wainscot  of  the 
stairway  at  the  left,  and  the  well-sweep  at  the  right. 
To  appreciate  fnlly  the  character  of  the  etching, 
one  must  examine  attentively  all  the  different  kinds 
of  lines  which  produce  the  varying  effects  of  light 
and  shadow.  Below  the  picture  Rembrandt  wrote 
his  name  and  the  date  1G33,  with  two  Latin  words 
meaning  that  he  designed  and  etched  the  plate  him- 
self. This  would  seem  to  show  that  he  was  well 
pleased  with  his  work,  and  it  is  interesting  to  learn 
that  the  great  German  poet,  Goethe,  admired  the 
composition  extravagantly. 


VII 

THE    PRESENTATION    IN    THE    TEMPLE 

The  story  which  the  picture  of  the  PresentatioK 
illustrates  is  a  story  of  the  infancy  of  Jesus  Christ. 
According-  to  the  custom  of  the  Jews  at  that  time, 
every  male  child  was  "  presented,"  or  dedicated,  to 
the  Lord  when  about  a  month  old.  Jesus  was  born 
in  Bethlehem  of  Judiea,  a  small  town  about  four 
miles  from  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  the  Jewish  capital, 
where  the  temple  w^as.  When  he  was  about  a 
month  old,  his  mother  Mary  and  her  husband  Jo- 
seph, who  w^ere  devout  Jews,  brought  him  to  the 
great  city  for  the  ceremony  of  the  presentation  in 
the  temple.  Now  the  temple  was  a  great  place  of 
worship  ^^Jlere  many  religious  ceremonies  were  taking 
place  all  the  time. 

Ordinarily,  a  party  coming  up  from  the  country 
for  some  religious  observance  would  not  attract  any 
special  attention  among  the  Avorshippers.  But  on 
the  day  when  the  infant  Jesus  was  presented  in  the 
temple,  a  very  strange  thing  occurred.  The  evan- 
gelist St.  Luke^  relates  the  circumstances. 

"  And  behold,  there  w\as  a  man  in  Jerusalem  whose 
name  was  Simeon  ;  and  the  same  man  was  just  and 
devout,  waiting  for  the  consolation   of  Israel :  and 

^  St.  Luke,  chapter  ii.  verses  25-35. 


38  REMBRANDT 

the  Holy  Ghost  was  upon  hiiii.  And  it  was  revealed 
unto  him  by  the  Holy  Ghost  that  he  should  not  see 
death,  before  he  had  seen  the  Lord's  Christ.  And 
he  came  by  the  Spirit  into  the  temple  :  and  when 
the  parents  brought  in  the  child  Jesus,  to  do  for 
him  after  the  custom  of  the  law,  then  took  he  him 
up  in  his  arms,  and  blessed  God,  and  said.  Lord,  now 
lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  according 
to  thy  word :  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation 
which  thou  hast  prepared  before  the  face  of  all  peo- 
ple, a  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles  and  the  glory  of 
thy  people  Israel. 

"  And  Joseph  and  his  mother  marveled  at  those 
things  which  were  spoken  of  liim.  And  Simeon 
blessed  them,  and  said  unto  Mary  his  mother.  Behold 
this  child  is  set  for  the  fall  and  rising  again  of  many 
in  Israel ;  and  for  a  sign  which  shall  be  spoken 
against ;  that  the  thought  of  many  hearts  may  be 
revealed." 

In  the  picture  we  find  ourselves,  as  it  were,  among 
the  worshippers  in  the  temple,  looking  at  the  group 
on  the  pavement  in  front  of  us  —  Mary  and  Joseph 
and  Simeon,  kneeling  before  a  priest,  with  two  or 
three  onlookers.  It  is  a  Gothic  cathedral,  in  whose 
dim  recesses  manv  people  move  hither  and  thither. 
At  the  right  is  a  long  flight  of  steps  leading  to  a 
throne,  which  is  overshadowed  by  a  huge  canopy. 
At  the  top  of  the  steps  we  see  the  high  priest  seated 
with  hands  outstretched,  receiving  the  people  Avho 
throng  up  the  stairway.  It  was  towards  this  stair- 
way that  Mary  and  Joseph  were  making  their  way, 


Ft.  UanfstaeDgU  Photo.  Jotio  Andrew  ^  boo,  Ha, 

THE   PRESENTATION    IN    THE   TEMPLE 


T/ie  Hague  Gallery 


THE   PRESENTATION   IN   THE   TEMPLE  4) 

when  the  ao'ed  Simeon  first  saw  them,  and  recog-- 
nized  in  the  chihl  they  carried  the  one  he  had  long 
expected.  Taking-  the  babe  from  his  motlier's  arms, 
he  kneels  on  the  marble-tiled  pavement  and  raises 
his  face  to  heaven  in  thankso-ivino-.  His  embroi- 
dered  eymar,  or  robe,  falls  about  him  in  rich  folds 
as  he  clasps  his  arms  about  the  tiny  swaddled  figure. 

Mary  has  dropped  on  her  knees  beside  him,  lis- 
tening to  his  words  with  happy  wonder.  Joseph, 
just  beyond,  looks  on  with  an  expression  of  inquiry. 
He  carries  two  turtle  doves  as  the  thank  offerino; 
required  of  the  mother  by  the  religious  law.  His 
unkempt  appearance  and  bare  feet  contrast  with 
the  neat  dress  of  Mary.  The  tall  priest  standing 
before  them  extends  his  hands  towards  the  group  in 
a  gesture  of  benediction.  A  broad  ray  of  light 
gleams  on  his  strange  headdress,  lights  up  his  out- 
stretched hand,  and  falls  with  dazzling  brilliancy 
upon  the  soft  round  face  of  the  babe,  the  smiling 
mother,  nnd  the  venerable  Simeon  with  flowin<»' 
white  hair  and  ])eard. 

There  are  but  few  people  to  pay  any  heed  to  the 
strange  incident.  Two  or  three  of  those  who  climb 
the  stairway  turn  about  and  stare  curiously  at  the 
group  below.  There  are  three  others  still  more  in- 
terested. One  man  behind  puts  his  turbaned  head 
over  Simeon's  shoulders,  peering  inquisitively  at  the 
child,  as  if  trying  to  see  what  the  old  man  finds  so 
remarkable  in  him.  Beyond,  two  old  beggars  ap- 
proach with  a  sort  of  good-natured  interest.  They 
are  quaintly  dressed,  one  of  them  wearing  a  very  tall 


42  REMBRANDT 

cap.     Such  humble  folk  as  these  alone  seem  to  have 
time  to  notice  others'  affairs. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  this  scene  very 
closely  represents  the  actual  event  it  illustrates. 
The  painter  Rembrandt  knew  nothing  about  the 
architecture  of  the  old  Jewish  temple  destroyed 
many  centuries  before.  A  Gothic  cathedral  was  the 
finest  house  of  worship  known  to  him,  so  he  thought 
out  the  scene  as  it  would  look  in  such  surroundings. 
The  people  coming  and  going  were  such  as  he  saw 
about  him  daily ;  the  beggars  looking  at  the  Christ- 
child  were  the  beggars  of  Amsterdam,  and  the  men 
seated  in  the  wooden  settle  at  the  right  were  like 
the  respectable  Dutch  burghers  of  his  aquaintance. 
It  was  like  translating  the  story  from  Aramaic  to 
Dutch,  but  in  the  process  nothing  is  lost  of  its 
oriofinal  touchino-  beaut  v. 

In  studying  the  picture,  you  must  notice  how 
carefully  all  the  figures  are  painted,  even  the  very 
small  ones  in  the  darkest  parts  of  the  composition. 
The  beautiful  contrast,  between  the  light  on  the 
central  group  and  the  soft  dimness  of  the  remoter 
parts  of  the  cathedral,  illustrates  a  style  of  work  for 
which  Rembrandt  was  very  famous,  and  which  we 
shall  often  see  in  his  pictures. 


VIII 


CHRIST     PREACHING 


We  read  in  the  evangelists'  record  of  the  life  of 
Jesus  that  he  went  about  the  country  preaching  the 
gospel  (or  the  good  news)  of  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven.  Sometimes  he  preached  in  the  synagogue 
on  the  Sabbath  day  ;  but  more  often  he  talked  to 
the  people  in  the  open  air,  sometimes  on  the  moun- 
tain-side, sometimes  on  the  shore  of  the  lake  Gen- 
nesaret,  or  again  in  the  streets  of  their  towns. 

The  scribes  and  Pharisees  were  jealous  of  his 
popularity,  and  angry  because  he  exposed  their 
hypocrisy.  The  proud  and  rich  found  many  of  his 
sayings  too  hard  to  accept.  So  it  was  the  poor 
and  unhappy  who  were  most  eager  to  hear  him, 
and  they  often  formed  a  large  part  of  his  audience. 
Jesus  himself  rejoiced  in  this  class  of  followers,  and 
when  John  the  Baptist's  messengers  came  to  him  to 
inquire  into  his  mission,  he  sent  back  the  message, 
"  The  poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to  them." 

In  this  picture  of  Christ  Preaching,  we  see  that 
his  hearers  are  of  just  the  kind  that  the  preacher's 
message  is  intended  for,  —  the  weary  and  heavy- 
laden  wdiom  he  called  to  himself.  There  are  a  few 
dignitaries  in  the  gathering,  it  is  true,  standing 
pompously  by  in  the  hope  of  finding  something  to 


44  REMBRANDT 

criticise.  But  Jesus  pays  no  attention  to  them  as  he 
looks  down  into  the  faces  of  the  listeners  who  most 
need  his  words.  His  pulpit  is  a  square  coping-stone 
in  a  courtyard,  and  the  people  gather  about  him  in 
a  circle  in  the  positions  most  convenient  to  them. 

There  is  no  formality  here,  no  ceremony  ;  each 
one  may  come  and  go  as  he  pleases.  Here  is  a 
mother  sitting  on  the  ground  directly  in  front  of 
the  speaker,  holding  a  babe  in  her  arms,  while  a 
little  fellow  sprawls  out  on  the  ground  beside  her, 
drawino-  on  the  sand  with  his  fing-er.  Thouofh  we 
cannot  see  her  face,  we  know  that  she  is  an  absorbed 
listener,  and  Jesus  seems  to  speak  directly  to  her. 

A  pathetic-looking  man  beyond  her  is  trying  to 
take  in  the  messao-e  in  a  wonderino-  wav,  and  a 
long-bearded  man  behind  him  is  so  aroused  that  he 
leans  eagerly  forward  to  catch  every  word.  There 
are  others,  as  is  always  the  case,  who  listen  very 
stolidly  as  if  quite  indifferent. 

Again  there  are  two  who  ponder  the  subject 
thoughtfully.  One  of  these  is  in  the  rear,  —  a 
young  man,  perhaps  one  of  Jesus'  disciples  ;  the 
other  sits  in  front,  crossing  his  legs,  and  support- 
ing his  chin  with  his  hand.  In  the  group  at  the 
right  of  Jesus  we  can  easily  pick  ont  the  scoffers 
and  critics,  listening  intently,  some  of  them  more 
interested,  perhaps,  than  they  had  expected  to  be. 

As  we  look  at  Jesus  himself,  so  gentle  and  tender, 
raising  both  hands  as  if  to  bless  the  company,  we 
feel  sure  that  he  is  speaking  some  message  of  com- 
fort.    One  day  when  he  was  reading  the  Scriptures 


Cm      ;^ 

-V, 


^ 


CHRIST  PREACHING  47 

in  the  synagogue  at  Capernaum,  he  selected  a  pas- 
sage which  described  his  own  work,  and  AvhicJi  per- 
fectly applies  to  this  picture.  We  can  imagine  that 
he  is  saying :  "  The  spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon 
me ;  because  the  Lord  hath  anointed  me  to  preach 
good  tidings  unto  the  meek ;  he  hath  sent  me  to 
bind  up  the  brokenhearted,  to  proclaim  liberty  to 
the  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to  them 
that  are  bound;  to  prockdni  the  acceptable  year  of 
the  Lord,  and  the  day  of  vengeance  of  our  God ;  to 
comfort  all  that  mourn  ;  to  appoint  unto  them  that 
mourn  in  Zion,  to  give  unto  them  beauty  for  ashes, 
the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  the  garment  of  praise 
for  the  spirit  of  heaviness." 

It  is  a  noticeable  fact  that  the  figures  in  this 
picture  of  Christ  preaching  are  Dutch  types.  If  you 
think  that  this  is  a  strange  way  to  illustrate  scenes 
which  took  place  in  Palestine  many  centuries  ago, 
you  must  remember  that  the  picture  was  drawn  by 
a  Dutchman  who  knew  nothing  of  Palestine,  and  in- 
deed little  of  any  country  outside  his  own  Holland. 
He  wished  to  make  the  life  of  Christ  seem  real  and 
vivid  to  his  own  countrymen  ;  and  the  only  way  he 
could  do  this  was  to  represent  the  scenes  in  the  sur- 
ronndings  most  familiar  to  himself  and  to  them.  The 
artist  was  simplv  trvinir  to  imaoine  what  Jesus  would 
do  if  he  had  come  to  Amsterdam  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  instead  of  to  Jerusalem  in  the  first  century  ; 
somewhat  ascertain  modern  writers  have  tried  to  think 
what  would  take  place  "  If  Jesus  came  to  Chicago," 
or  "  If  Jesus  came  to  Boston,"  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 


48  REMBRANDT 

tury.  The  sweet  gentleness  in  the  face  of  Christ 
and  the  eager  attention  of  the  people  show  how  well 
Rembrandt  understood  the  real  meaning  of  the  New 
Testament. 

This  picture  is  worthy  of  very  special  study  be- 
cause it  is  reckoned  by  critics  one  of  the  best  of 
Rembrandt's  etchings.  One  enthusiastic  writer^ 
says  that  "  the  full  maturity  of  his  genius  is  ex- 
pressed in  every  feature."  One  must  know^  a  great 
deal  about  the  technical  processes  of  etching  to 
appreciate  fully  all  these  excellencies ;  but  even  an 
inexperienced  eye  can  see  how  few  and  simple  are 
the  lines  which  produce  such  striking  effects  of  light 
and  shadow  :  a  scratch  or  two  here,  a  few  parallel 
lines  drawn  diagonally  there ;  some  coarse  cross- 
hatching  in  one  place,  closer  hatching  in  another ; 
now  and  then  a  spot  of  the  black  ink  itself,  —  and 
the  whole  scene  is  made  alive,  with  Jesus  stand- 
ing in  the  midst,  the  light  gleaming  full  upon  his 
fiofure. 

*  MicheL 


IX     • 

CHRIHT    AT    EMMAUS 

The  picture  of  Christ  at  Eminaus  illustrates  an 
event  in  the  narrative  of  Christ's  life  which  took 
place  on  the  evening"  of  the  first  Easter  Sunday.  It 
was  now  three  days  since  the  Crucifixion  of  Christ 
just  outside  Jerusalem,  and  the  terrible  scene  was 
still  very  fresh  in  the  minds  of  his  disci})les.  It 
happened  that  late  in  the  day  two  of  them  were 
going  to  a  village  called  Emmaus,  not  very  far  from 
Jerusalem. 

They  made  the  journey  on  foot,  and  as  they 
walked  along  the  way,  "they  talked  together,"  says 
the  evangelist  ^  who  tells  the  story,  "  of  all  those 
things  which  had  happened.  And  it  came  to  pass^ 
that,  while  they  communed  together  and  reasoned, 
Jesus  himself  drew  near,  and  went  w^itli  them.  But 
their  eyes  were  holden  that  they  should  not  know 
him.  And  he  said  unto  them,  '  What  manner  of 
communications  are  these  that  ye  have  one  to  an- 
other, as  ye  walk,  and  are  sad  ? '  And  the  one  of 
them,  wdiose  name  was  Cleopas,  answering  said  unto 
him,  ^Art  thou  only  a  stranger  in  Jerusalem,  and 
hast  not  known  the  things  which  are  come  to  pass 
there  in   these   days  ? '     And    he  said   unto   them, 

1  St.  Luke,  chajiter  xxiv.  verses  13-32. 


50  REMBRANDT 

*\Vhat  things?'  And  they  said  unto  him,  'Concern* 
ino-  Jesus  of  Nazareth.'  "  Then  followed  a  conver- 
sation  in  which  they  told  the  stranger  something  of 
Jesus,  and  he  in  turn  explained  to  them  many 
thinos  about  the  life  and  character  of  Jesus  which 
they  had  never  understood. 

"  And  they  drew  nigh  unto  the  village,  whither 
they  went :  and  he  made  as  though  he  w^ould  have 
gone  further.  But  they  constrained  him,  saying, 
'  Abide  with  us :  for  it  is  toward  evening,  and  the 
day  is  far  spent.'  And  he  went  in  to  tarry  with 
them. 

"  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  sat  at  meat  with  them, 
he  took  bread,  and  blessed  it,  and  brake,  and  gave 
to  them.  And  their  eyes  were  opened  and  they 
knew  him ;  and  he  vanished  out  of  their  sight. 
And  they  said  one  to  another,  '  Did  not  our  hearts 
burn  within  us,  while  he  talked  with  us  by  the 
way  c 

The  picture  suggests  vividly  to  us  that  wonderful 
moment  at  Emmaus  when  the  eyes  of  the  disciples 
were  opened,  and  they  recognized  their  guest  as 
Jesus,  whom  they  had  so  recently  seen  crucified. 
The  table  is  laid  in  a  great  bare  room  with  the  com- 
monest furnishings,  and  the  disciples  appear  to  be 
laboring  men,  accustomed  to  "plain  living  and  high 
thinking."  They  are  coarsely  dressed,  and  their 
feet  are  bare,  as  are  also  the  feet  of  Jesus.  One 
seems  to  have  grasped  the  situation  more  quickly 
than  the  other,  for  he  folds  his  hands  together, 
reverentlv   gazing  directly  into  the  face  of  Jesus. 


Maison  Ad.  Braun  i:  Cie.,  rhotu. 


John  Andrew  4  Sod.  Sc. 


CHRIST    AT    EM  MA  US 
The  Louvre,  J\i>  is 


CHRIST   AT   EMMAUS  53 

His  companion,  an  older  man,  at  tiie  other  end  o£ 
the  table,  looks  up  astonished  and  mystified.  The 
boy  who  is  bringing  food  to  the  table  is  busy  with 
his  task,  and  does  not  notice  any  change  in  Jesus. 

In  the  midst  is  Christ,  ''pale,  emaciated,  sitting 
facinn*  ns,  breakino"  the  bread  as  on  the  evenin""  of 
the  Last  Supper,  in  his  pilgrim  rojje,  with  his  black- 
ened lips,  on  which  the  torture  has  left  its  traces, 
his  great  brown  eyes  soft,  widely  opened,  and 
raised  towards  heaven,  with  his  cold  nimbus,  a  sort 
of  phosphorescence  around  him  which  envelops  him 
in  an  indefinable  glory,  and  that  inexplicable  look 
of  a  breathing  human  being  who  certainly  has 
passed  through  death." 

This  description  is  by  a  celebrated  French  critic,^ 
himself  a  painter,  who  knows  whereof  he  speaks. 
He  says  that  this  picture  alone  is  enough  to  estab- 
lish the  reputation  of  a  man. 

There  is  one  artistic  quality  in  the  picture  to 
which  we  must  pay  careful  attention,  as  it  is  particu- 
larly characteristic  of  Rembrandt.  This  is  tlie  way 
in  which  the  liiiht  and  shadow  are  arrano-ed,  or  what 
a  critic  would  call  the  chiaroscuro  of  the  picture. 
The  heart  of  the  composition  glows  witli  a  golden 
light  whicli  comes  from  some  unseen  source.  It 
falls  on  the  wdiite  tablecloth  witli  a  dazzling  bril- 
liancy as  if  from  some  bright  lamp.  It  gleams  on 
the  faces  of  the  company,  bringing  out  their  expres- 
sions clearly.  The  arched  recess  behind  the  table 
is  thrown  into  heavy  shadow,  against  whicli  the  cen- 
trally lighted  group  is  sliarply  contrasted. 

^  F''onientiii,  in  Ohl  Masters  of  Belgium  and  Holland. 


54  REMBRANDT 

This  singular  manner  of  bringing  light  and  dark- 
ness into  striking  opposition  makes  the  objects  in 
a  picture  stand  out  very  vividly.  Some  one  has 
defined  chiaroscuro  as  the  "  art  of  renderins"  the 
atmosphere  visible  and  of  painting  an  object  envel- 
oped in  air."  The  art  was  carried  to  perfection 
by  Rembrandt.  You  will  notice  it  more  or  less  in 
every  picture  of  this  collection,  but  nowhere  is  it 
more  appropriate  than  here,  where  the  appearance 
of  Christ,  as  the  source  of  light,  emphasizes  the 
mystery  of  the  event  and  makes  something  sacred 
of  this  common  scene. 

As  we  compare  this  picture  with  the  etching  of 
Christ  Preaching,  we  get  a  better  idea  of  Rem- 
brandt's aim  in  representing  Christ.  He  did  not 
try  to  make  his  face  beautiful  with  regular  classi- 
cal features,  after  the  manner  of  the  old  Italian 
painters.  He  did  not  even  think  it  necessary  to 
make  his  figure  grand  and  imposing.  Something 
still  better  Rembrandt  sought  to  put  into  his  pic- 
ture, and  this  w^as  a  gentle  expression  of  love» 


X 

PORTRAIT    OF    SASKIA 

We  should  have  but  a  very  imperfect  idea  of 
Rembrandt's  work  if  we  did  not  learn  somethins" 
about  the  portraits  he  painted.  It  was  for  these 
that  he  was  most  esteemed  in  his  own  day,  being 
the  fashionable  portrait  painter  of  Amsterdam  at  a 
time  when  every  person  of  means  wished  to  have  his 
likeness  painted.  A  collection  of  his  works  of  this 
kind  would  almost  brino-  back  a^ain  the  citizens 
of  Amsterdam  in  the  seventeenth  century,  so  life- 
like are  these  wonderful  canvases.  Amono-  them 
we  should  find  the  various  members  of  his  family, 
his  father  and  mother,  his  sister,  his  servant,  his 
son,  and^nost  interesting  of  all,  his  beloved  wife, 
Saskia. 

Saskia  was  born  in  Friesland,  one  of  nine  chil- 
dren of  a  wealthy  patrician  family.  Iler  father, 
Rombertus  van  Uylenborch,  was  a  distinguished 
lawyer,  wdio  had  had  several  important  political  mis- 
sions intrusted  to  him.  At  one  time  he  was  sent  as 
a  messenoer  to  William  of  Orano-e,  and  was  sittino- 
at  table  with  tliat  prince  just  before  his  assassina- 
tion. He  died  in  1(32^:,  leaving  Saskia  an  orphan, 
as  she  had  lost  her  mother  five  years  before.  The 
little  girl  of  twelve  now  began  to  live  in   turn  with 


56  REMBRANDT 

her  married  sisters.  At  the  age  of  twenty  she  caine 
to  Amsterdam  to  live  for  a  while  with  her  cousin, 
the  wife  of  a  minister,  Jan  Cornelis  Sylvius,  whose 
face  we  know  from  one  of  Rembrandt's  etchings. 
Saskia  had  also  another  cousin  living  in  Amsterdam. 
Hendrick  van  Uylenborch,  a  man  of  artistic  tastes^ 
who  had  not  succeeded  as  a  painter,  and  had  become 
a  dealer  in  bric-a-brac  and  engravings.  He  was  an 
old  friend  of  Rembrandt;  and  when  the  young 
painter  came  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  great  city  in 
1G31,  he  had  made  his  home  for  a  while  with  the 
art  dealer. 

It  was  doubtless  Hendrick  who  introduced  Rem- 
brandt to  Saskia.  Probably  the  beginning  of  their 
acquaintance  was  through  Rembrandt's  painting 
Saskia' s  portrait  in  1632.  The  relation  between 
them  soon  grew  quite  friendly,  for  in  the  same  year 
the  young  girl  sat  two  or  three  times  again  to  the 
painter.  The  friendship  presently  ended  in  court- 
ship, and  when  Rembrandt  pressed  his  suit  the 
marriage  seemed  a  very  proper  one.  Saskia  was 
of  a  fine  family  and  had  a  sufficient  dowry. 

Rembrandt,  though  the  son  of  a  miller,  v/as 
already  a  famous  painter,  much  sought  after  for 
portraits,  and  with  a  promising  career  before  him. 
The  engagement  was  therefore  approved  by  her 
guardians,  but  marriaoe  beino;-  deferred  till  she  came 
of  age,  the  courtship  lasted  two  happy  years.  Dur- 
ing this  time  Rembrandt  painted  his  lady  love  over 
and  over  a<rain.  It  was  one  of  his  artistic  methods 
to  paint  the  same  person  many  times.     He  was  not 


"^T.  Uanfataengl.  Photo. 


John  Andrew  &  tion,  Sc. 


PORTRAIT    OF  SASKIA 
Cassel  Galhry 


PORTRAIT   OF  SASKIA  59 

one  of  the  superficial  painters  who  turn  constant!}' 
from  one  model  to  another  in  search  ot'  new  effects. 
He  liketl  to  make  an  exhaustive  study  of  a  single 
face  in  many  moods,  with  many  expressions  and 
varied  by  different  costumes. 

Saskia  had  small  eyes  and  a  round  nose,  and  was 
not  at  all  beautiful  according  to  chissical  standards. 
Rembrandt,  however,  cared  less  for  beauty  than  for 
expression,  and  Saskia's  face  was  very  expressive,  at 
times  merry  and  almost  roguish,  and  again  quite 
serious.  She  had  also  a  brilliant  complexion  and 
an  abundance  of  silky  hair,  waving  from  lier  fore- 
head. The  painter  had  collected  in  his  studio  many 
pretty  and  fantastic  things  to  use  in  his  pictures, — 
velvets  and  gold  embroidered  cloaks.  Oriental  stuffs, 
laces,  necklaces,  and  jewels.  With  these  he  loved 
to  deck  Saskia,  heightening*  her  girlish  charms  with 
the  play  of  light  upon  these  adornments. 

One  of  the  most  famous  of  the  many  portraits  of 
Saskia  af  this  time  is  the  picture  we  have  here. 
Because  it  is  not  si<i"ned  and  dated,  after  Rem- 
brandt's  usual  custom,  it  is  thouo'ht  that  it  was  in- 
tended  as  a  gift  for  Saskia  herself,  and  thus  it  has 
a  romantic  interest  for  us.  Also  it  is  painted  with 
extreme  care,  as  the  work  of  a  lover  ottering  the 
choicest  fruit  of  his  art. 

The  artist  has  arranged  a  picturesque  costume  for 
his  sitter, —  a  broad-brimmed  hat  of  red  velvet  with 
a  sweeping  white  feather,  an  elaborate  dress  with 
embroidered  yoke  and  full  sleeves,  a  rich  mantle 
draped  over  one  shoulder,  necklace,  earrings,  and 


60  REMBRANDT 

bracelets  o£  pearls.  Her  expression  is  more  serious 
here  than  usual,  though  very  happy,  as  if  she  was 
thinkinof  of  her  lover  ;  and  in  her  hand  she  carries 
a  sprig-  of  rosemary,  which  in  Holland  is  the  symbol 
of  betrothal,  holdins:  it  near  her  heart. 

The  marriage  linally  took  place  in  June,  1634,  in 
the  town  of  Bildt.  The  bridal  pair  then  returned 
to  Amsterdam  to  a  hap})y  home  life.  Rembrandt 
had  no  greater  pleasure  than  in  the  quiet  family 
circle,  and  Saskia  had  a  simple  loving  nature,  en- 
tirely devoted  to  her  husband's  happiness.  A  few 
years  later  Rembrandt  moved  into  a  fine  house  in 
the  Breestraat,  which  he  furnished  richly  with  choice 
paintings  and  works  of  art. 

A  succession  of  portraits  shows  that  the  painter 
continued  to  paint  his  wife  with  loving  pride.  He 
represented  her  as  a  Jewdsh  bride,  as  Flora,  as  an 
Odalisque,  a  Judith,  a  Susanna,  and  a  Bathsheba. 
There  is  one  painting  of  the  husband  and  wife  to- 
gether, Saskia  perched  like  a  child  on  Rembrandt's 
knee,  as  he  flourishes  a  wine-glass  in  the  air.  In 
another  picture  (an  etching)  they  sit  together  at  a 
table  about  the  evening  lamp,  the  Avife  with  her 
needle-work,  the  artist  with  his  engraving.  The 
love  betw^een  them  is  tlie  brightest  spot  in  Rem- 
brandt's history,  clouded  as  it  was  with  many  dis- 
appointments and  troubles.  As  a  celebrated  writer 
has  expressed  it,  Saskia  was  "  a  ray  of  sunshine  in 
the  perpetual  chiaroscuro  of  his  life." 


XI 


THE    SORTIE    OF    THE    CIVIC    GUARD,    OR    THE    NIGHT 

WATCH 

The  patriotism  of  the  Dutch  is  seen  through  the 
entire  history  of  "  brave  little  Holland."  Early  in 
the  sixteenth  century  every  town  of  considerable 
size  had  a  military  company  composed  of  the  most 
prominent  citizens.  Each  company,  or  guild,  had  a 
place  of  assembly,  or  doelen,  and  a  drilling-ground. 
The  officers  were  chosen  for  a  year,  and  the  higliest 
appointments  were  those  of  captain,  lieutenant,  and 
ensign.  Upon  these  civic  guards  rested  the  respon- 
sibilitv  of  maintainino-  the  order  and  safety  of  the 
town.  Sterner  duties  than  these  were  theirs  when 
in  the  late  sixteenth  century  (1573),  at  the  call  of 
William  of  Orange,  the  various  guilds  formed  them- 
selves into  volunteer  companies  to  resist  the  Spanish. 
How  well  they  accpiitted  themselves  is  a  matter  of 
history,  and  Spain  recognized  the  republic  in  the 
treaty  of  1609.  After  the  war,  many  of  the  corpo- 
rations were  reorganized  and  continued  to  be  of 
great  importance  in  the  seventeenth  century. 

The  picture  we  have  here  represents  the  Civij 
Guard  of  Amsterdam  during  the  captaincy  of  Frans 
Banning  Cocq  in  1642.  Cocq  was  a  man  of  wealth 
and  influence  who  had  purchased  the  estate  of  Pur- 


62  ftEMBRANDT 

merlaiul  in  1G18  and  had  also  been  granted  a  pat- 
ent of  nobility.  So  it  was  natural  that  Lord  Pur- 
merland.  one  of  the  most  distino-uished  citizens  of  the 
town,  should  be  called  to  a  term  of  office  as  captain 
of  the  Civic  Guard.  His  magnificent  stature  and 
manly  bearino-  show  hini  well  fitted  for  the  honor. 

The  picture  represents  an  occasion  when  the 
guard  issues  from  the  assembly  hall,  or  doelen,  in  a 
sudden  call  to  action.  Captain  Cocq  leads  the  way 
with  Lieutenant  Willem  yau  Ruytenberg,  of  Vlaerd- 
ingen,  and  as  he  advances  gives  orders  to  his  fellow 
officer.  The  drum  beats,  the  ensio-n  unfurls  the 
standard,  every  man  carries  a  weapon  of  some  sort. 
One  is  priming-  a  musket,  another  loading  his  gun, 
another  firing.  A  mass  of  lance-bearers  press  on 
from  the  rear.  In  the  confusion  a  dog  scampers 
into  the  midst  and  barks  furiously  at  the  drum.  A 
little  girl  slips  into  the  crowd  on  the  other  side, 
oddly  out  of  place  in  such  company,  but  quite  feai-- 
less.  It  has  been  suo-o-ested  that  she  may  have 
been  the  bearer  of  the  tidings  which  calls  the  guard 
forth.  The  quaint  figure  is  clad  in  a  long  dress  of 
some  shimmerino-  stuff,  and  she  has  the  air  of  a 
small  princess.  From  her  belt  hangs  a  cock,  and 
she  turns  her  face  admirinoly  towards  the  o-reat 
captain. 

We  do  not  know  of  any  historical  incident  which 
precisely  corresponds  to  the  action  in  the  picture. 
Indeed,  it  is  not  strictly  speaking  an  historical 
picture  at  all,  but  rather  a  portrait  group  of  the 
Civic  Guard,  in  attitudes  appropriate  to  their  char- 


u 


r, 


THE   SORTIE   OF  THE   CIVIC   GUARD  65 

acter  as  a  military  body.  They  may  be  going'  out 
for  target  practice  or  for  a  shooting  match  such  as 
was  held  annually  as  a  trial  of  skill ;  it  may  be  a 
parade,  or  it  may  be,  as  some  have  fancied,  a  call  to 
arms  against  a  sudden  attack  from  the  enemy.  In 
any  case  the  noticeable  thing  is  the  readiness  with 
which  all  respond  to  the  call  —  the  spirit  of  patri 
otism  which  animates  the  body.  The  Dutch  are 
not  naturally  warlike,  but  rather  a  peace-loving 
people ;  lacking  the  quick  impulsiveness  of  a  more 
nervous  race,  they  are  of  a  somewhat  heavy  and 
deliberate  temper ;  yet  they  have  the  solid  worth 
which  can  be  counted  on  in  an  emero-encv,  and  in 
love  of  country  they  are  united  to  a  man.  Benja- 
min Franklin  once  said  of  Holland,  "  In  love  of 
liberty,  and  bravery  in  the  defense  of  it,  she  has 
been  our  great  example." 

The  picture  cannot  be  fully  understood  without 
some  knowledge  of  its  history.  Painted  for  the 
hall  of  the  Amsterdam  Musketeers,  it  was  to  take 
its  place  among  others  by  contemporary  painters, 
as  a  portrait  group  in  honor  of  the  officers  of  the 
year,  and  as  a  lasting  memorial  of  their  services. 
The  other  pictures  had  been  stiff  groups  about  a 
table,  and  the  novelty  of  Rembrandt's  composition 
displeased  some  of  the  members  of  the  guild.  Each 
person  who  figures  in  the  scene  had  subscribed  a 
certain  sum  towards  the  cost  of  the  })icture  for  his 
own  portrait,  and  was  anxious  to  get  his  money's 
worth.  Consequently,  there  were  many  who  did  not 
at  all  relish  their  insi<»-nificance  in  the  backoround. 


66  REMBRANDT 

quite  overshadowed  by  the  g-lory  of  the  captain  and 
lieutenant.  Thev  thouo-ht  thev  would  have  shown  to 
much  better  advantao^e  arrano-ed  in  rows. 

It  was  Rembrandt's  way  when  painting  a  portrait 
to  o'ive  life  and  realitv  to  the  fio'ure,  by  showino-  the 
leading'  element  in  the  character  or  occupation  of 
the  person.  Thus  his  shipbuilder  is  designing  a  ship, 
the  writing  master.  Coppenol,  is  mending  a  pen,  the 
architect  has  his  drawing  utensils,  and  the  preacher 
his  Bible.  So  in  the  Civic  Guard  each  man  carries 
a  weapon,  and  the  figures  are  united  in  spirited 
action.  All  this  artistic  motive  was  lost  upon  those 
for  whom  the  picture  was  painted,  because  of  their 
petty  vanity.  So  the  great  painting,  now  so  highly 
esteemed,  was  not  a  success  at  the  time. 

In  the  foUowinor  century  it  was  removed  to  the 
town  hall ;  and  in  order  to  fit  it  into  a  particular 
place  on  the  wall,  a  strip  was  cut  otf  each  side  the 
canvas.  It  is  the  loss  of  these  maro;ins  which  o-ives 
the  composition  the  crowded  appearance  which  so 
lono'  seemed  a  strano-e  fault  in  a  o-reat  artist  like 
Rembrandt. 

The  original  colors  of  the  painting  grew  so  dark 
with  the  accumulation  of  smoke  in  the  hall  that  the 
critics  supposed  the  scene  occurred  at  night,  hence 
the  incorrect  name  of  the  Nio-ht  Watch  was  o-iven 
to  it.  Since  the  picture  was  cleaned,  in  1889,  it  is 
apparent  that  the  incident  occurred  in  the  daytime, 
and  if  you  look  carefullv  you  can  plainly  see  the 
shadow  of  Captain  Cocq's  hand  on  the  lieutenant's 
tunic. 


xn 

PORTRAIT    OF   JAN    HIX 

When  the  painter  Rembrandt  came  to  Amsterdam 
in  1631,  a  young-  man  seeking-  his  fortune  in  the 
great  city,  a  hid  o£  twelve  years  was  living  in  his 
father's  country  seat,  near  by,  who  was  later  to  be- 
come one  of  his  warm  friends.  This  was  Jan  Six, 
the  subject  of  the  portrait  etching  reproduced  here. 
There  was  a  great  contrast  in  the  circumstances  of 
life  in  which  the  two  friends  grew  up.  Rembrandt 
was  the  son  of  a  miller,  and  had  his  own  way  to 
make  in  the  world.  Jan  Six  was  surrounded  from 
his  earliest  years  with  everything  which  tended  to 
the  o-ratification  of  his  natural  taste  for  culture. 
Rembrandt's  rare  talent,  however,  overbalanced  anv 
lack  of  early  advantages,  and  made  him  a  friend 
worth  having. 

Six  had  come  of  Huguenot  ancestry.  His  grand- 
father had  fled  to  Holland  during  the  Huguenot  per- 
secution in  France,  and  had  become  a  resident  in 
Amsterdam  in  1585.  Jan's  father,  another  Jan,  had 
married  a  Dutch  lady  of  good  family,  whose  maiden 
name  was  Anna  Wijmer.  It  was  in  the  service  of 
this  good  lady  that  we  first  hear  of  Rembrandt's 
connection  with  the  Six  family.  He  was  called  to 
paint  her  portrait  in  1611,  and  must  have  then,  if 


68  REMBRANDT 

not  before,  made  the  acquaintance  of  her  young  sou., 
Jan.  Jan  united  to  a  great  love  of  learning  a  love 
of  everything  beautiful,  and  was  an  ardent  collector 
of  objects  of  art.  Paintings  of  the  old  Italian  and 
early  Dutch  schools,  rare  princs  and  curios  of  various 
kinds,  were  his  delight.  He  found  in  Rembrandt  a 
man  after  his  own  heart.  Already  the  painter  had 
gone  far  beyond  his  means  in  filling  his  own  house 
with  costly  works  of  art.  So  the  two  men,  having 
a  hobby  in  common,  found  a  strong  bond  of  union 
in  their  congenial  tastes.  We  may  be  sure  that 
they  were  often  together,  to  show  their  new  pur- 
chases and  discuss  their  beauty. 

Rembrandt,  as  an  older  and  more  experienced 
collector,  would  doubtless  have  good  advice  to  offer 
his  younger  friend,  and,  an  artist  himself,  w^ould  know 
how  to  judge  correctly  a  work  of  art.  One  record 
of  their  friendship  in  these  years  is  a  little  etched 
landscape  which  Rembrandt  made  in  164:1,  showing 
a  bridge  near  the  country  estate  of  the  Six  family, 
a  place  called  Elsbroek,  near  the  village  of  Hille- 
gom. 

It  was  in  1647  that  Rembrandt  made  this  portrait 
of  his  friend,  then  twenty-nine  years  of  ao^e.  Six 
had  now  begun  to  make  a  name  for  himself  in  the 
world  of  letters  as  a  scholar  and  poet.  He  had 
already  published  a  poem  on  Muiderberg  (a  village 
near  Amsterdam),  and  by  this  time,  doubtless,  had 
under  way  his  great  literary  work,  the  tragedy  of 
Medsea.  Many  were  the  times  when  Rembrandt, 
coming  to  his  house  to  talk  over  some  new  treasure- 


•1 

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^^^ 

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sl^^^l 

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Pi 

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A  ■ 

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■ .  • 

■„  r., ' 

Photographed  from  original  etcbiDg 


John  Aniirew  k  Son.  Sc 


PORTRAIT    OF   JAN    SIX 
Museum  of  Fine  Arts,  Boston 


PORTRAIT  OF  JAN   SIX  71 

trove,  found  him  in  his  library  with  his  head  buried 
in  a  book,  and  his  thou<>-hts  far  awav.  It  was  in 
such  a  moment  that  he  must  have  had  the  idea  of 
this  beautiful  portrait.  He  catches  his  friend  one 
day  in  the  corner  of  his  library,  standing-  with  his 
back  to  the  window  to  o'et  the  liiiht  on  the  book  he 
is  reading.  He  transfers  the  picture  to  a  copper 
plate  and  hands  it  down  to  future  generations. 

The  slender  figure  of  the  young  man  is  clad  in 
the  picturesque  dress  of  a  gentleman  of  his  time, 
with  knee-breeches  and  low  shoes,  with  wide  white 
collar  and  cuffs.  His  abundant  wavy  blond  hair 
falls  to  his  slnndders  ;  he  has  the  air  of  a  true  poet. 
In  his  eao-erness  to  read,  he  has  fluni>'  his  cavalier's 
cloak  on  the  window  seat  behind  him,  a  part  of  it 
dropping  upon  a  chair  beyond.  Its  voluminous 
folds  make  a  cushion  for  him,  as  he  leans  gracefully 
ag-ainst  the  window  ledg-e.  His  sword  and  belt  lie 
on  the  chair  with  the  cloak.  For  the  moment  the 
pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword.  The  furnishings 
of  the  room  show  the  owner's  tastes  ;  a  ])ile  of  folio 
volumes  fill  a  low  chair,  an  antique  picture  hang's 
on  the  wall. 

The  youns:  man's  face  is  seen  by  the  light  re- 
fleeted  from  the  pages  of  his  open  book.  It  is  a 
refined,  sensitive  face,  of  high  intellectual  cast,  ami- 
able withal,  and  full  of  imagination.  He  is  com- 
pletely absorbed  in  his  reading,  a  smile  playing 
about  his  mouth.  How  little  of  a  fop  and  how 
much  of  a  poet  h'^  is,  we  see  from  his  disordered 
collar.      Breathing    quickly   as    he    bends   over    his 


72  REMBRANDT 

book,  in  his  excitement  he  cannot  endure  the  re- 
straint of  a  close  coUar.  He  has  unloosed  it,  as, 
quite  oblivious  of  any  untidiness  in  his  appearance, 
he  hurries  on,  ruthlessly  crushing  the  pages  of  the 
folio  back,  as  he  grasps  it  in  his  hand. 

The  friendship  between  Six  and  Rembrandt 
seemed  to  grow  apace  ;  for  wdien  the  tragedy  of 
Medsea  was  published,  in  1648,  it  was  illustrated  by 
a  magnificent  etching  by  Rembrandt,  representing 
the  Marriage  of  Jason  and  Creusa. 

The  literary  work  of  Jan  Six  led  the  way  to 
various  public  honors.  In  1656  he  became  com- 
missioner of  marriages  ;  in  1667,  a  member  of  the 
Council  of  the  States  General  of  Holland,  and  in 
1691,  burgomaster  of  Amsterdam.  His  continued 
friendship  for  Rembrandt  was  shown  in  his  pur- 
chasing a  number  of  the  latter's  paintings.  Rem- 
brandt at  length  painted  a  magnificent  portrait  of 
his  friend  in  his  old  age,  which,  with  the  portrait 
of  his  mother  and  the  original  plate  for  this  etching, 
still  remains  in  the  Six  family  in  Amsterdam.  Re- 
ferring to  the  portrait  of  Jan  Six,  the  famous  Dutch 
poet.  Von  del,  contemporary  of  Rembrandt  and  Six, 
paid  a  fitting  tribute  to  the  great  burgomaster,  as 
a  "lover  of  science,  art,  and  virtue." 


XIII 

PORTRAIT    OF    AX    OLD    WOMAN 

The  story  is  told  of  a  little  child  who,  upon  being 
introduced  to  a  kind-faced  lady,  looked  up  brig-htly 
into  her  eyes  with  the  question,  "  Whose  mother 
are  you?"  When  we  look  into  the  wrinkled  old 
face  of  this  picture,  the  same  sort  of  a  question 
springs  to  mind,  and  we  involuntarily  ask,  "  Whose 
grandmother  are  you?"  We  are  sure  that  children 
and  grandchildren  have  leaned  upon  that  capacious 
lap.  The  name  of  the  subject  is  not  known,  though 
the  same  face  appears  many  times  in  Rembrandt's 
works.  But  there  are  many  people  whose  names 
we  can  quote,  of  whom  we  know  much  less  than  of 
this  old^woman. 

The  story  of  her  life  is  written  in  the  picture. 
Those  clasped  hands,  large  and  knotted,  have  done 
much  hard  work.  They  have  ministered  to  the 
needs  of  two  generations.  They  have  dandled  the 
baby  on  her  knee,  and  supported  the  little  toddler 
taking  his  first  steps.  They  have  tended  the  child 
and  wrought  for  the  youth.  They  have  built  the 
fire  on  the  hearth  and  swept  out  the  house ;  they 
have  kneaded  the  bread  and  filled  the  kettle ;  they 
have  spun  and  woven,  and  sewed  and  mended. 
They  have  not  even  shrunk  from  the  coarser  labors 


74  REMBRANDT 

of  dooryard  and  field,  the  eare  of  the  cattle,  the 
jjlanting"  and  harvesting.  But  labor  has  done  no- 
thin  (j  to  coarsen  the  innate  refinement  of  the  soul 
Avhich  looks  out  of  the  fine  old  face. 

She  is  resting  now.  The  children  and  grandchil- 
dren have  grown  up  to  take  care  of  themselves  and 
their  grandmother  also.  She  has  time  to  sit  down 
in  the  twilight  of  life,  just  as  she  used  to  sit  down  at 
the  close  of  each  day's  work,  to  think  over  what  has 
happened.  She  has  a  large  comfortable  chair,  and 
she  is  neatly  dressed,  as  befits  an  old  woman  whose 
life  work  is  done.  A  white  kerchief  is  folded  across 
her  bosom,  a  shawl  is  wrapped  about  her  shoul- 
ders, and  a  hood  droops  over  her  forehead.  Her 
thoughts  are  far  away  from  her  present  surround- 
ings ;  something  sad  occupies  them.  She  dreams 
of  the  past  and  perhaps  also  of  the  future.  Sorrow 
as  well  as  work  has  had  a  large  share  in  her  life, 
but  she  has  borne  it  all  with  patient  resignation. 
She  is  not  one  to  complain,  and  does  not  mean  to 
trouble  others  with  her  sadness.  But  left  all  alone 
witli  her  musings,  a  look  of  yearning  comes  into 
her  eyes  as  for  something  beautiful  and  much  loved, 
lost  long  ago. 

Some  painters  have  been  at  great  pains  to  fashion 
a  countenance  sorrowful  enough  and  patient 
enough  to  represent  the  subject  of  the  Mater  Dolo- 
rosa, that  is,  the  Sorrowing  Mother  of  Christ.  Per- 
haps they  would  have  succeeded  better  if  they  had 
turned  away  from  their  own  imaginations  to  some 
mother  in  real  life,  who  has  loved  and  worked  and 


MaiBOD  Ad.  Braun  &  Cie.,  Photo. 


John  Andrew  &  Son,  Sc. 


PORTRAIT    OF   AN    OLD    WOMAN 
Hertnitagc  Gallery,  St.  Petersburg 


PORTRAIT  OF   AN   OLD   WOMAN  77 

suffered  like  this  one.  The  face  answers  in  part 
our  first  question.  A  woman  like  this  is  capable  of 
mothering;  great  sons.  Industrious,  patient,  self- 
sacrificing,  she  would  spare  herself  nothing  to  train 
them  faithfully.  And  the  life  of  which  her  face 
speaks  —  a  life  of  self-denying  toil,  ennobled  by 
high  ideals  of  duty  —  is  the  stuff  of  which  heroes 
are  made.  Some  of  the  great  men  of  history  had 
such  mothers. 

The  picture  illustrates  the  fact  that  a  face  may  be 
interesting  and  even  artistic,  if  not  beautiful.  This 
idea  may  surprise  many,  for  when  one  calls  a  person 
"as  pretty  as  a  picture,"  it  seems  to  be  understood 
that  it  is  only  pretty  people  who  make  suitable 
models  for  pictures.  Rembrandt,  however,  was  of 
quite  another  mind.  He  w^as  a  student  of  character 
as  well  as  a  painter,  and  he  cared  to  paint  faces 
more  for  their  expression  than  for  beauty  of  feature. 

Now  the  expression  of  a  face  is  to  a  great  extent 
the  index  of  character.  We  sav  that  the  child  has 
"  no  character  in  his  face,"  meaning  that  his  skin  is 
still  fair  and  smooth,  before  his  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings have  made  any  record  there.  Gradually  the 
character  impresses  itself  on  his  face.  Experience 
acts  almost  like  a  sculptor's  chisel,  carving  lines  of 
care  and  grooving  furrows  of  sorrow,  shaping  the 
mouth  and  the  setting  of  the  eyes. 

The  longer  this  process  continues,  the  more  ex- 
pressive the  face  becomes,  so  that  it  is  the  old  whose 
faces  tell  the  most  interesting  stories  of  life.  Rem- 
brandt understood    this    perfectly,  and    none    ever 


78  REMBRANDT 

succeeded    better  than  he  in  reveaUng-    the  poetry 
and  beauty  of  old  age. 

His  way  of  showing  the  character  in  the  face  of 
this  ohl  woman  is  very  common  with  him.  The 
high  hght  of  the  picture  is  concentrated  on  the  face 
and  is  continued  down  upon  the  snowy  kerchief. 
This  forms  a  diamond  of  hght  shading  by  grada- 
tions into  darker  tints.  It  was  the  skillful  use  of 
light  and  shadow  in  the  picture,  which  made  a  poetic 
and  artistic  work  of  a  subject  which  another  painter 
might  have  made  very  commonj)lace. 


XIV 

THE  SYNDICS  OF  THE  CLOTH  GUILD 

The  word  syndic  is  a  name  applied  to  an  officer 
of  a  corporation,  and  this  is  its  meaning"  in  the  title 
of  the  picture,  The  Syndics  of  the  Cloth  Guild.  In 
Holland,  as  in  England  and  France  and  elsewhere 
in  Europe,  guilds  were  associations  of  tradesmen  or 
artisans  united  for  purposes  of  mutual  help  and 
for  the  interests  of  their  respective  industries.  In 
some  points  they  were  the  forerunners  of  modern 
trades  unions,  except  that  the  members  were  pro- 
prietary merchants  and  master  craftsmen  instead  of 
employees,  and  their  purpose  was  the  advancement 
of  commercial  intei'ests  in  municipal  affairs,  instead 
of  the  protection  of  labor  against  capital.  There 
were  guilds  of  mercers,  wine  merchants,  goldsmiths, 
painters  and  many  others. 

Now  the  wool  industry  was  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant in  Holland,  hence  the  Guild  of  Drapers  or 
Cloth  Workers  was  a  dignified  association  in  several 
cities.  There  was  one  in  Ley  den,  where  Rembrandt 
was  born,  and  another  in  Amsterdam,  where  he 
passed  the  most  of  his  life.  Amsterdam  was  at 
that  time  the  foremost  commercial  city  of  Europe. 
Its  guilds  had  fine  halls,  ornamented  with  works  of 
art   painted   by  the  best   contemporary  artists.     It 


80  REMBRANDT 

was  for  this  purpose  that  Rembrandt  received  from 
the  Amsterdam  Cloth  Guild  the  commission  to  paint 
a  portrait  group  of  their  five  officers,  and  he  accord- 
ingly delivered  to  them  in  16G1  the  great  picture  of 
which  we  have  this  little  reproduction  to  examine. 

Just  as  in  the  picture  of  the  Civic  Guard  he  had 
given  life  to  the  portraits,  by  showing  the  members 
in  some  action  appropriate  to  their  military  charac- 
ter, so  here  he  represents  the  officers  of  the  guild  in 
surroundings  suggestive  of  their  duties.  They  are 
gathered  about  a  table  covered  with  a  rich  scarlet 
cloth,  on  which  rests  the  great  ledger  of  the  corpo- 
ration. They  are  engaged  in  balancing  their  ac- 
counts and  preparing  a  report  for  the  year,  and  a 
servant  awaits  their  order  in  the  rear  of  the  apart- 
ment. Their  task  seems  a  pleasant  one,  for  what- 
ever difficulties  have  arisen  during  their  administra- 
tion, it  is  evident  that  the  outcome  is  successful. 
They  take  a  quiet  satisfaction  in  the  year's  record. 

It  is  as  if  in  the  midst  of  their  consultations,  as 
they  turn  the  leaves  of  the  ledger,  we  suddenly 
open  the  door  into  the  room.  They  are  surprised 
but  not  disturbed  by  the  intrusion,  and  look  ge- 
nially towards  the  newcomers.  The  younger  man 
at  the  end  welcomes  us  with  a  smile.  Next  to  him 
is  one  who  has  been  leaning  over  the  book.  He 
raises  his  head  and  meets  our  eyes  frankly  and  cor- 
dially. His  companion  continues  his  discourse,  ges- 
turingi"  with  the  rioht  hand.  The  older  men  at  one 
side  2"ive  more  attention  to  the  arrival.  One  seated 
in  the  armchair  smiles  good  naturedly ;  the  other, 


•J 


O 
J 


s   -^ 


THE   SYNDICS   OF   THE   CLOTH   GUILD  83 

risiiii^'  and  leaning  on  the  table,  peers  forward  with 
a  look  of  keen  inquiry. 

As  we  examine  the  faces  one  by  one,  we  conld 
almost  write  a  character  study  of  each  man,  so  won- 
derfully does  the  portrait  reveal  the  inner  life  —  the 
placid  amiability  of  one,  the  quiet  humor  of  an- 
other, the  keen,  incisive  insight  of  a  third.  That 
they  are  all  men  of  sound  judgment  we  may  well 
believe,  and  they  are  plainly  men  to  be  trusted. 
The  motto  of  the  guild  is  a  key  to  their  character  : 
"  Conform  to  your  vows  in  all  matters  clearly  within 
their  jurisdiction  ;  live  honestly  ;  be  not  influenced 
in  your  judgments  by  favor,  hatred,  or  personal  in- 
terest." These  principles  are  at  the  foundation  of 
the  commercial  prosperity  for  which  Holland  is 
noted. 

The  picture  nuiy  be  taken  to  illustrate  a  })age  in 
American  history.  It  was  the  Dutcli,  as  we  all  re- 
member, who  founded  the  State  of  New  York,  and 
the  fifty  years  of  their  occupation  (1614:-1664) 
fell  wdthin  the  lifetime  of  Rembrandt.  The  fifteen 
thousand  settlers,  who  came  durino-  this  time  from 
Holland  to  America,  brought  with  them  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  their  home  country.  The  citi- 
zens of  New  Amsterdam  were  the  counterparts  of 
their  contemporaries  in  the  old  Amsterdam.  We 
may  see,  then,  in  this  ])icture  of  the  Ch)th  Merchants 
of  Amsterdam  just  such  men  as  were  to  be  seen 
amono-  our  own  colonists.  In  the  broad-brimmed 
hat  and  the  wide  white  collar  we  find  the  same 
peculiarities  of  dress,  and  in  their  honest  faces  w» 


84  REMBRANDT 

read  the  same  national  traits.  It  was  to  men  like 
these  that  we  owe  a  debt  o£  gratitude  for  some  of 
the  best  elements  in  our  national  life.  In  the  words 
of  a  historian/  "  The  republican  Dutchmen  gave 
New  York  its  tolerant  and  cosmopolitan  character, 
insured  its  commercial  supremacy,  introduced  the 
common  schools,  founded  the  oldest  day  school  and 
the  first  Protestant  church  in  the  United  States,  and 
were  pioneers  in  most  of  the  ideas  and  institutions 
we  boast  of  as  distinctly  American."  . 

If  you  fancy  that  it  was  quite  accidental  that  the 
six  figures  of  this  picture  are  so  well  arranged,  and 
wonder  why  the  art  of  Rembrandt  should  be  so 
praised  here,  you  may  try  an  experiment  with  your 
camera  upon  a  group  of  six  figures.  In  posing  six 
persons  in  any  order  which  is  not  stiff,  and  getting 
them  all  to  look  with  one  accord  and  quite  natu- 
rally towards  a  single  point,  you  will  understand 
some  of  the  many  difficulties  which  Rembrandt 
overcame  so  simply. 

1  W.  E.  Griffis,  in  Brave  Little  Holland,  pp.  212-213. 


XV 


THE    THREE    TREES 

Holland,  as  is  well  known,  is  a  country  built  upon 
marshes,  which  have  been  drained  and  filled  in  by 
the  patient  industry  of  many  generations  of  workers. 
The  land  is  consequently  very  low,  almost  perfectly 
level,  and  is  covered  bv  a  network  of  canals.  It 
lacks  many  of  the  features  Avhich  make  up  the  nat- 
ural scenery  of  other  countries,  —  mountains  and 
ravines,  rocks  and  rivers,  —  but  it  is,  nevertlieless,  a 
very  picturesque  country.  Artists  love  it  for  the 
quiet  beauty  of  its  landscape.  Though  this  is  not 
grand  and  awe-inspiring,  it  is  restful  and  attractive. 

We  may  well  believe  that  the  artistic  nature  of 
Rembrandt  was  sensitive  to  the  influences  of  his 
native  Dutch  scenery.  Tliough  his  great  forte  in 
art  lay  in  other  directions,  he  paused  from  time  to 
time  to  paint  or  etch  a  landscape. 

Even  in  this  unaccustomed  work  he  proved  himseU 
a  master.  Pie  treated  the  subject  much  as  he  did  a 
portrait,  —  trying  to  bring  out  the  character  of  the 
scene  just  as  he  brought  out  the  character  in  a  face. 
How  much  of  p  story  he  could  tell  in  a  single  picture 
we  see  in  this  famous  etchins;  called  The  Three 
Trees. 

One  can  tell  at  a  glance  that  this  is  Holland.     We 


86  REMBRANDT 

look  across  a  wide  level  stretch  of  land,  and  the  eye 
travels  on  and  on  into  an  almost  endless  distance. 
Far  away  we  see  the  windmills  of  a  Dutch  town  out- 
lined against  the  sky,  —  a  sign  of  industry  as  im- 
portant in  Holland  as  are  factory  chimneys  in  some 
other  parts  of  the  world.  Beyond  this,  another  end- 
less level  stretch  meets  the  sky  at  the  horizon  line. 
It  is  hard  to  distinguish  the  land  and  water,  which 
seem  to  lie  in  alternate  strips.  The  pastures  are 
surrounded  by  canals  as  by  fences. 

Here  and  there  are  cows  grazing,  and  we  are  re- 
minded of  the  tine  dairy  farms  for  which  Holland 
is  noted,  the  rich  butter  and  cheese,  which  are  the 
product  of  these  vast  flat  lands,  apparently  so  use- 
less and  unproductive.  Directly  in  front  of  us,  at 
the  left,  is  a  still  pool,  and  on  the  farther  bank 
stands  a  fisherman  holdino-  a  rod  over  the  water. 
A  woman  seated  on  the  bank  watches  the  process 
with  intense  interest.  There  are  two  other  figfures 
near  by  which  can  hardly  be  discerned. 

The  wide  outlook  of  flat  country  is  the  setting 
for  the  little  tree-crowned  hill  which  rises  near  us  at 
the  right.  It  would  seem  a  very  small  hillock  any- 
where else,  but  in  these  level  surroundings  it  has  a 
distinct  character.  It  is  the  one  striking  feature 
which  gives  expression  to  the  face  of  the  landscape. 
The  eye  turns  with  pleasure  to  its  grassy  slopes  and 
leafy  trees.  The  trees  have  the  symmetrical  grace 
so  characteristic  of  Dutch  veo-etation.  Nothinsr  is 
allowed  to  grow  wild  in  this  country.  Every  grow- 
ing thing  is  carefully  nurtured  and  trained.     We 


THE   THREE   TREES  89 

see  that  the  distances  between  these  trees  were  care- 
fully spaced  in  the  planting,  so  that  each  one  might 
develop  independently  and  perfectly  without  injury 
to  the  others.  The  branches  grow  from  their 
straight  trunks  at  the  same  height,  and  they  are 
plainly  of  the  same  age.  Their  outer  branches  in- 
terlace in  brotherly  companionship  to  make  a  solid 
leafy  arbor,  beneath  which  the  wayfarer  may  find  a 
shady  retreat.  On  the  summit  of  the  hill,  outlined 
against  the  sky,  is  a  hay  wagon  followed  by  a  man 
with  a  rake.  At  a  distance,  also  clearly  seen  against 
the  sky,  on  the  ridge  of  the  hill,  sits  a  man,  alone 
and  idle. 

The  sky  is  a  wonderful  part  of  the  picture.  Rem- 
brandt, it  appears,  almost  never  ventured  to  repre- 
sent the  clouds.  He  had  the  true  artist's  reverence 
for  subjects  which  were  beyond  his  skill,  and  pre- 
ferred to  leave  untouched  what  he  could  not  do 
well.  Now  in  this  case,  lacking  the  experience  to 
draw  a  sky  as  finished  in  workmanship  as  his  land- 
scape, he  sufjgested  in  a  few  lines  the  effect  which 
he  wished  to  produce.  At  the  left  a  few  diagonal 
strokes  show  a  smart  shower  just  at  hand.  A  whirl 
of  dark-colored  clouds  comes  next,  and  in  the  upper 
air  beyond,  a  stratum  of  clouds  is  indicated  by  a 
mass  of  lines  crossing  and  recrossing  in  long  swirl- 
ino;  curves. 

With  these  few  lines  Kembrandt  conveys  per- 
fectly the  idea  that  a  storm  is  approaching.  The 
clouds  seem  to  be  in  motion,  scurrying  across  the 
sky  in  advance  of  the  rain.     One  imaginative  critic 


90  REMBRANDT 

has  thought  that  he  coukl  discern  in  the  cloud-whirl 
a  dim  phantom  figure  as  of  the  spirit  of  the  on-com- 
ing storm.  Like  the  clouds  we  often  see  in  nature, 
it  takes  some  new  fantastic  shape  every  time  we 
look  at  it.  Altogether  the  impression  we  receive  is 
that  of  vivid  reality.  The  artist's  few  lines  have 
produced  with  perfect  success  an  effect,  which  might 
have  been  entirely  spoiled  had  he  tried  to  finish  it 

carefully. 

We  look  once  more  nt  the  landscape  to  see  w^hat 
influence  the  coming  storm  has  upon  it.  The  fisher- 
man pays  no  heed.  The  clouding  of  the  sky  only 
makes  the  fish  bite  better,  and  absorbed  in  his  sport 
he  cares  nothing  for  weather.  The  haymaker  on 
the  hilltop  has  a  better  chance  to  read  the  face  of 
the  sky,  and  starts  up  his  wagon.  The  three  trees 
seem  to  feel  the  impending  danger.  Their  leafage 
is  already  darkening  in  the  changed  light,  and  they 
toss  their  branches  in  the  wind,  as  if  to  wrestle  with 
the  spirit  of  the  storm. 


XVI 

THE    PORTRAIT    OF    REMBRANDT 

In  stutlylng-  the  fifteen  pictures  of  this  collection, 
we  have  seen  somethino-  of  the  work  of  the  o-reat 
Dutch  master,  Rembrandt,  and  have  learned  a  little 
of  the  man  himself,  of  his  love  for  the  sweet  wife, 
Saskia,  of  his  friendship)  with  the  cultured  burg'O- 
master,  Jan  Six,  of  his  faithful  and  reverent  study 
of  the  Bible,  of  his  rare  insight  into  people's  charac- 
ter. We  are  ready  now  to  look  directly  into  the 
artist's  own  face,  in  a  portrait  by  his  own  hand. 

There  are  a  great  many  portraits  of  Rembrandt 
etched  and  painted  by  himself.  We  have  noticed 
how  fond  he  was  of  painting  the  same  model  many 
times,  in  order  to  make  a  thorough  study  of  the 
face,  in  varying  moods  and  expressions.  Now  there 
w^as  one  sitter  who  was  always  at  hand,  and  ready 
to  do  his  bidding.  He  had  only  to  take  a  position 
in  front  of  a  mirror,  and  there  was  this  model  willino- 
to  pose  in  any  position  and  with  any  expression  he 
desired.  So  oblimno;  a  sitter  could  nowhere  else  be 
found;  and  thus  it  is  that  there  is  such  a  large  col- 
lection of  his  self-made  portraits. 

His  habit  of  painting  his  own  portrait  gave  him 
an  opportunity  to  study  all  sorts  of  costume  effects. 
His  patrons  were  plain,  slow-going  Dutchmen  who 


92  REMBRANDT 

did  not  want  any  "  fancy  "  effects  in  tbeir  portraits. 
They  wished  first  of  all  a  faithful  likeness  in  such 
clothing-  as  they  ordinarily  wore.  It  was  chiefly  in 
his  own  portraits  that  Rembrandt  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  painting  the  rich  and  fanciful  costumes  he 
loved  so  well.  He  wore  in  turn  all  sorts  of  hats  and 
caps,  many  jewels  and  ornaments,  and  every  variety 
of  mantle,  doublet,  and  cuirass.  In  this  he  was 
somewhat  like  an  actor  taking-  the  parts  of  many 
different  characters.  Sometimes  he  is  an  officer 
with  mustaches  fiercely  twisted,  carrying  his  head 
with  a  dashing  military  air.  Again  he  is  a  cavalier 
wearing  his  velvet  mantle,  and  plumed  hat,  with  the 
lanofuid  eleo-ance  of  a  g-entleman  of  leisure.  Some- 
times  he  seems  a  mere  country  boor,  a  rough,  un- 
kempt fellow,  with  coarse  features  and  a  heavy 
expression. 

As  we  see  him  acting  so  many  roles,  we  may  well 
wonder  what  the  character  of  the  man  really  was. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  full  of  singular  contra- 
dictions. In  his  personal  habits  he  was  frugal  and 
temperate  to  the  last  degree,  preferring  the  simplest 
fare,  and  contenting  himself  with  a  lunch  of  herring 
and  cheese  when  occupied  with  his  work.  On  the 
other  hand,  his  artistic  tastes  led  him  into  reckless 
.extravagance.  He  thought  no  price  too  great  to 
pay  for  a  choice  painting,  or  rare  print,  upon  which 
he  had  set  his  heart.  He  was  generous  to  a  fault, 
fond  of  his  friends,  yet  living  much  alone. 

In  the  portrait  we  have  chosen  for  our  frontis- 
piece, we  like  to  believe  that  we  see  Rembrandt,  the 


-CEE  PORTRAIT  OF  REMBRANDT  93 

man  himself.  He  wears  one  of  his  rich  studio  cos- 
tumes, but  the  face  which  he  turns  to  ours  is  quite  free 
from  any  affectation  ;  a  spirit  of  sincerity  looks  out 
of  his  kindly  eyes.  The  portrait  is  signed  and 
dated  1G40,  so  that  the  man  is  between  thirty  and 
thirty-five  years  of  age.  This  was  the  hap])iest 
period  of  Rembrandt's  life,  while  his  wife  Saskia 
was  still  livino'  to  bri<»hten  his  home. 

We  see  his  contentment  in  his  face.  He  has 
large  mobile  features,  which  have  here  settled  into 
an  ex23ression  of  genial  repose.  He  has  the  digni- 
fied bearing  of  one  whose  professional  success  en- 
titles him  to  a  just  sense  of  self-satisfaction,  but  he 
is  not  posing  as  a  great  man.  He  is  still  a  simple- 
hearted  miller's  son,  a  man  whom  we  should  like  t(» 
meet  in  his  own  family  circle,  with  his  little  ones 
playing  about  him.  He  is  a  man  to  whom  children 
might  run,  sure  of  a  friendly  welcome  ;  he  is  a  man 
whom  strangers  might  trust,  sure  of  his  sincerity. 
It  is,  iir  short,  Rembrandt,  with  all  the  kindliest 
human  qualities  uppermost,  which  show  us,  behind 
the  artist,  the  man  himself. 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY  OF  PROPER  NAMES 
AND  FOREIGN  AVORDS. 


The  Diacritical  Marks  given  are  those  found  in  the  latest  edition  of  Webster's  Inter- 
national Dictionary. 

EXPLANATION   OF   DIACRITICAL  MARKS. 

A  Dash  (~)  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  long  sound,  as  in  fate,  eve,  time,  note,  use. 

A  dash  and  a  dot  C)  above  the  vowel  denote  the  same  sound,  less  prolonged. 

A  Curve  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  short  sound,  as  in  add,  end.  Til,  odd,  Hp. 

A  Dot  ( * )  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  obscure  sound  of  a  in  past,  abate,  America 

A  Double  Dot  (")  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  broad  sound  of  a  in  fiither,  alms. 

A  Double  Dot  (       )  below  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  sound  of  a  in  ball. 

A  Wave  C*)  above  the  vowel  e  denotes  the  sound  of  e  in  her. 

A  Circumflex  Accent  {")  above  the  vowe!  o  denotes  the  sound  of  o  in  oOru, 

e  sounds  like  e  in  depSnd. 

6  sounds  like  o  in  propose. 

C  sounds  like  S. 

«  sounds  like  k. 

§  sounds  like  Z. 

g  is  hard  as  in  get. 

g  is  soft  as  in  gem. 


Am'stgrdani. 

Apocrypha  {ix  pok  ri  fa). 

Arama'i*. 

Ase'nath. 

AssyrTa.    *" 

Azari'as. 

Bathshe'ba. 
Beth'lehSni. 
Bildt  (belt). 
Brauu  (brown). 
Breestraat  (bra'strat). 
burgher  (bSr'gSr). 

eap&r'n.aiiin. 

Cassel  (kjis'sel). 

chiaroscuro  (kya  ro  skocVro). 

€'le'opas. 

Coeq  (kiJk). 

Coppenol  (kop'pS  nol). 

■Creu'sa. 

cuirass  (kwe  riis'). 

cyraar  (si  mar'j. 


doelen  (doo'len). 

Ecbatane  (ek  bat/a  iiii) 

Elsbroek  (els'brocik). 

Eiiinia'us  (ur  eiu  iiia  us) 

Eneines'sar. 

E'phraim. 

et'zeu. 

Friesbxnd   (frez'laud). 
Fronieiitiii  (fro  luoN  taN'), 

Gab'ael  (or  gii'b.a  el). 
Galile'6. 
6ennes'aret. 
Goethe  (g&'tu). 

Hague  (hilg). 

Hainelin  (hil'nie  liu). 

Haufstaengl,    Frauz    (friiuts    liiiuf 

stilngl). 
Hatto  (hat/^). 
Hillegom  (hil'le  gom). 


96 

Is'rael. 

Jii'son. 
Jer'icho. 
Joden  (yo'den). 


Lastman,      Pieter      (pe'tSr      last'- 

nian). 
Lej'den  (li'deii). 
Louvre  (lob'vr). 

Manasseh  (niAuas'su). 

Mano'ah. 

Mater    Dolorosa    (ma't6r    dol  6  ro'- 

sa). 
Medtea  (me  de'a). 
Media  (nie'di  a). 
Michel  (me  shel'). 
Muiderberg  (moi'dgr  berg). 

Naz'areth. 
Nineveh  (nin'e  vu). 

Odalisque  (o'da  lisk). 

Padana'ram. 

Parestlne. 

Peni'el. 

Penu'el. 

Pur'm§rland. 


REMBRANDT 


Ra'geg. 

Ragru'el  {(n-  rSg'u  §1) 

Raphael  (ra'fa  el). 

Rembrandt  (rem'brant). 

Ruytenberg,    Willera    van    (wll'lem 

van  roi'tgn  b§rg). 
Ryks. 

Saskia  (sas'ke  a). 

Seuna-eh'erib. 

Sini'eou, 

Six,  Jan  (yan  sex). 

Stuttgart  (stoot'gart). 

Sylvius,  Jan  Cornelis  (yiin  kor  ne'lis 

sil've  oos). 
Syn'di*. 
Swanenburch  (swa'neu  boorK). 

Ti'gris. 

Tobi'as. 

To' bit. 

Trippenhuis  (trip'pen  hois). 

Uylenborch,   Rorabertus    van    (rone 
ber'toos  van  oi'len  borK), 

Vlaerdingen  (vlar'ding  en). 
Vondel  (von'del). 

Wijmer  (wi'm5r)« 


«-.tv^'"*" 


MURILLO 
1617-1682 


Photographetl  from  thp  pAinti»:g 


John  Amirew  i  Son. 


BARTOLOME   ESTEBAN  MURILLO    (By  Himself) 

Collection  of  the  Earl  of  Spencer,  Althorf,  England 


I 

THE    IMMACULATE    CONCEPTION 

The  country  of  Spain  has  in  former  times  con- 
tributed much  that  is  beautiful  to  the  art  and  Htera- 
ture  of  the  workl.  Some  of  our  great  men  of  letters, 
like  Washington  Irving,  Longfellow,  and  Lowell, 
have  drawn  inspiration  from  its  storied  past.  The 
most  celebrated  Spanish  painters  lived  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  and  among  them  was  Murillo,  some 
of  whose  pictures  we  are  to  study  in  this  little  col- 
lection. 

Murillo  passed  the  most  of  his  life  in  his  native 
city  of  Seville,  the  ca})ital  of  the  old  province  of 
Andalusia,^  which  is  at  the  southern  end  of  Spain. 
In  his  time,  the  city  was  called  "  the  glory  of  the 
Spanish  realms."  Great  nobles  and  rich  merchants 
lived  there,  and  from  its  ports  trade  was  carried  on 
with  all  parts  of  the  world.  It  was  adorned  with 
splendid  buildings  and  public  squares,  and  sur- 
rounded by  beautiful  gardens. 

Now  the  public  buildings  of  this  time  were  not 
only  fine  to  look  upon  on  the  outside,  but  they  were 

^  In  modern  Spain  tlie  territory  once  called  Andalusia  is  divided 
into  the  provinces  of  Almeria,  .Jaen,  Malaga,  Cadiz,  lluelva,  Seville, 
Cordova,  and  Granada. 


2  MURILLO 

made  glorious  within  by  the  paintings  on  the  walls. 
This  was  especially  the  case  with  churches,  monas- 
teries, and  hospitals,  and  there  was  a  great  demand 
for  pictures  of  religious  subjects  suitable  to  adorn 
such  buildings.  Most  of  Murillo's  works  were  pic- 
tures of  this  kind.  They  illustrated  Bible  stories, 
the  life  of  Christ,  the  life  of  the  Virgin,  and  the 
traditions  of  the  saints.  The  painter  was  himself  a 
yery  pious  man,  and  his  heart  was  in  his  work.  So 
it  came  to  pass  that  his  pictures  were  not  only  great 
works  of  art,  but  they  were  also  full  of  religious 
feelinof. 

His  fayorite  subject  was  the  Virgin  Mary  repre- 
sented as  floating:  in  mid-air  as  in  a  vision.  The 
subject  is  called  the  Immaculate  Conception,  and 
the  purpose  is  to  show  the  stainless  purity  of  Mary's 
character. 

Our  ilhistration  is  from  one  of  his  most  celebrated 
pictures  of  this  kind.  The  full-length  figure  of  the 
Virsrin  is  seen  in  the  sky  ag-ainst  a  g-olden  lio'lit,  with 
a  crescent  moon  beneath  her  feet,  and  throngs  of 
rejoicing  angels  about  her.  The  suggestion  for  the 
picture  is  from  a  verse  in  the  book  of  Revelation 
which  describes  "  a  woman  clothed  with  the  sun, 
and  the  moon  under  her  feet." 

She  is  robed  in  white  with  a  blue  mantle  thrown 
about  her.  The  white  is  for  her  maidenly  innocence, 
and  the  blue  —  the  color  of  the  sky  —  for  truth  and 
eternity.  Her  hair  is  unbound  and  falls  over  her 
neck  and  shoulders  like  a  beautiful  veil.  It  was  an 
old  custom  for  brides  to  be  married  with  their  hair 


From  a  oa.rboD  print  bj  Braun,  ClemeDt  k  Co. 


John  Aiiilrew  i  Sud,  So. 


THE   IMMACULATE   CONCEPTIOxX 
T/te  Louvre,  Paris 


THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION  5 

down  as  a  sacred  token  of  their  maidenhood.  So 
Mary  is  arrayed  like  a  bride  ready  to  receive  her 
heavenly  bridegroom . 

Her  figure  seems  buoyed  in  the  air  by  heavenly 
zephyrs.  Her  face  is  raised  to  heaven  in  rai)ture. 
Her  hands  are  pressed  lightly  to  her  bosom  and  hold 
in  place  her  mantle  and  scarf.  Tlie  poise  of  the 
head  suo'^ests  that  of  a  flower  lifting-  itself  to  the 
sun,  and  the  face  itself  has  a  delicate  flower-like 
beauty.  It  is  like  nothing  the  painter  had  ever 
seen  among  the  Andalusian  maidens,  and  like  none 
of  the  great  pictures  by  the  old  masters.  It  was 
his  own  ideal  of  the  gentle,  innocent  sweetness  of 
the  Virg-in. 

It  is  a  girlish  face,  as  innocent  and  trusting  as  a 
child's,  the  index  of  a  soul  unspotted  by  evil.  One 
may  well  believe  that  no  shadow  of  sin  ever  fell 
across  that  gentle  life,  and  the  lines  of  Wordsworth 
come  to  mind  as  perfectly  describing  the  picture :  — 

"  Mother  wliose  virgin  bosom  was  nncrost 
With  tlie  least  shade  of  thought  to  sin  allied  ! 
Woman  !  above  all  women  glorified  ; 
Our  tainted  nature's  solitary  boast  ; 
Purer  than  foam  on  central  ocean  tost  ; 
Brighter  than  eastern  skies  at  daybi'cak  strewn 
With  fancied  roses,  than  the  unbleiiiish'd  moon 
Before  her  wane  begins  f>n  heaven's  blue  coast, 
Thy  Image  falls  to  earth." 

No  small  part  of  the  beauty  of  the  picture  is  due  to 
the  host  of  baby  angels  surrounding  tlie  Virgin  like 
a  great  garland.  They  are  winsome  little  creatures 
all,  and  here  and  there  in  the  throng  one  picks  out 
some  face  of  special  charm.     There  is  a  beautiful 


6  MUKILLO 

figure  seated  on  a  cloud  just  below  the  Virgin.  His 
right  arm  is  lifted  exultingly  in  the  air,  and  a  heav- 
enly smile  is  on  the  little  face.  He  seems  to  call 
the  attention  of  his  companions  to  the  vision  above. 
The  angel  at  his  right  turns  his  face,  too,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  lifted  arm,  and  clasps  his  own  chubby 
little  hands  too-ether  in  adoration.  Others  seem 
more  engrossed  in  their  frolic,  as  they  play  in  and 
out  the  folds  of  the  Virgin's  robe. 

The  group  in  the  lower  part  of  the  picture  is 
massed  in  the  form  of  a  pyramid  to  give  stability  to 
the  composition.  The  others  are  grouped  in  twos 
and  threes,  and  describe  an  outline  following  the 
contour  of  the  Virgin's  figure. 

The  Immaculate  Conception  was  one  of  three 
large  paintings  which  Murillo  made  for  the  Hospital 
of  the  Venerables  in  Seville.  Like  most  of  the 
painter's  works  it  was  long  ago  taken  from  its  origi- 
nal home,  and  it  now  hangs  in  the  great  gallery  of 
the  Louvre  in  Paris. 


II 


THE  angp:ls    kitchen 

vSoME  two  hundred  years  before  the  time  o£  Ma- 
rilh),  there  Uved  in  a  Fi-anciscan  convent  at  Alcala 
a  man  named  Diego,  wlio  was  an  Andahisian  by 
birth.  He  was  not  regidarly  ordained  to  the  priest- 
hood, bnt  was  what  is  termed  a  lay  brother,  that  is, 
he  followed  the  life  of  a  friar  without  any  priestly 
duties.  His  work  was  with  the  household  affairs  of 
the  convent :  he  did  the  cookin<»"  for  tlie  brother- 
hood,  and  was  also  the  convent  porter.  From  all 
accounts  Diego  was  a  connnon  sort  of  fellow,  very 
ignorant  and  uncouth.  But  he  was  a  pious  soul, 
living  .a  life  of  holiness,  and  faithfully  performing 
his  daily  tasks.  The  Franciscans  were  one  of  the 
mendicant  orders,  that  is,  tliey  had  no  earthly  pos- 
sessions of  their  own  and  beofffed  their  food  and 
clothing.      They  were  taught  strict  self-denial. 

The  life  of  Diego  must  have  been  a  simple, 
monotonous  round  from  day  to  day,  preparing  the 
frugal  meals  for  the  brethren  and  performing  the 
domestic  duties  of  the  household.  It  would  not 
appear  that  a  convent  kitchen  was  a  place  where 
anything  interesting  could  happen,  and  certainly  not 
a  place  where  a  man  could  become  famous. 


8  MURILLO 

But  the  story  runs  that  one  day  a  marvel  befell 
Diego  in  his  kitchen,  and  from  that  day  his  name 
became  famous  in  the  religious  annals  of  Spain. 
While  busy  with  his  cooking  he  was  suddenly  raised 
into  the  air  in  a  heavenly  ecstasy,  while  angels  filled 
the  room  and  went  on  with  his  work.  This  is  the 
story  illustrated  in  our  picture,  and  it  is  one  of  a 
series  of  scenes  from  the  life  of  San  Diesfo. 

Our  painter  had  undertaken  to  decorate  the  walls 
of  a  Franciscan  convent  in  Seville  with  eleven  pic- 
tures. It  was  a  large  order,  and  the  brotherhood 
set  a  very  small  price  on  the  work.  No  painter 
of  established  reputation  would  consider  their  offer. 
For  Murillo,  however,  it  was  exactly  the  chance  he 
wanted  to  show  what  he  could  do.  He  was  then 
a  young  man,  and  had  just  returned  home  after 
three  years'  study  in  Madrid,  to  make  his  way  in  the 
world. 

The  life  of  the  Andalusian  San  Dieo-o  was  an 
especially  appropriate  subject  for  the  Sevillian  con- 
vent. As  the  friars  came  and  went  about  their  daily 
tasks,  they  would  be  cheered  and  inspired  by  these 
scenes  from  the  life  of  one  of  their  own  race  and 
order.  It  was  encouraoino-  to  see  that  a  humbler 
man  than  any  of  their  number  was  favored  with  such 
experiences  of  heavenly  fellowship.  We  can  readily 
understand  how  much  this  particular  picture  meant 
to  them. 

The  two  tall  ancjels  conversing'  tosfether  are  in  the 
centre  of  a  long,  narrow  picture,  only  a  portion  of 
which  is  reproduced  here.     Beneath  them  is  painted 


z 


^  .5 

—    « 


THE   ANGELS'  KITCHEN  11 

a  narrow  tablet  inscribed  with  a  descriptive  title  of 
the  picture.  In  the  part  cut  off  at  the  left  side  are 
three  men  just  entering*  the  door,  and  pausing  in 
astonishment.  On  the  right  side  is  represented  the 
further  end  of  the  kitchen.  Our  illustration,  how- 
ever, shows  us  the  heart  of  the  composition,  and 
carries  the  whole  story  with  it.  Indeed,  as  some 
one  has  said,  it  is  not  necessary  to  read  the  story 
elsewhere,  it  is  all  so  plainly  seen  in  the  picture. 

San  Diego  is  floating  upward  in  the  air  in  a  kneel- 
ing posture,  a  mysterious  light  shining  about  him. 
His  face  is  as  commonplace  as  tradition  describes  it, 
but  is  full  of  earnestness.  His  eyes  are  turned 
heavenward,  and  he  sees  nothino-  of  what  is  o-oins:  on 
about  him.  Meantime  the  angels  are  busy  pre})ar- 
ing  the  dinner,  and  in  the  midst  of  their  work  a 
friar  comes  in  at  the  rear.  We  notice  that  the 
angels  are  of  tAvo  quite  different  orders.  Some  are 
tall,  lithe  beings  with  large  spreading  })inions,  and 
others  are  little  creatures,  chubby  and  frolicsome 
like  human  babies.  The  tall  ones  seem  to  be  ])lan- 
nino;  and  directino-  the  work,  one  of  them  settiu"- 
forth  to  draw  water,  another  attending  to  the  meat, 
and  a  third  busy  with  mortar  and  pestle.  The  baby 
angels  are  on  the  floor  about  the  pan  of  vegetables. 
They  enter  into  the  task  witli  the  delight  of  children 
who  are  allowed  to  help  their  elders,  and  the  work 
is  turned  into  play. 

Murillo's  two  conceptions  of  angels  may  be  traced 
through  all  his  pic^tures.  He  painted  one  kind  or 
the  other  according  to  the  subject  represented.    The 


12  MURILLO 

tall  angels  are  the  messengers  dispatched  to  earth 
on  active  errands,  as  when  they  descend  and  as- 
cend the  ladder  of  Jacob's  dream.  The  baby 
ano-els  aie  "  the  multitude  of  the  heavenlv  host " 
who  fill  the  celestial  spaces  with  rejoicing.  They 
throng  about  the  Virgin  of  the  Immaculate  Concep- 
tion, they  accompany  the  Christ-child  as  he  descends 
to  St.  Anthony,  they  hold  the  wreath  of  roses  over 
the  head  of  the  child  Mary,  and  crown  the  martyr 
St.  Roderick.  There  is  scarcely  a  picture  of  any 
religious  subject  by  Murillo  where  their  sweet  little 
faces  do  not  appear. 


Ill 

BOY    AT    THE    WINDOW 

Nearly  all  the  orders  which  Miirillo  received  for 
paintings  were,  as  Ave  have  seen,  for  religious  pic- 
tures to  decorate  churches  and  monasteries.  There 
was,  however,  another  class  of  pictures  which  he 
painted  apparently  for  his  own  pleasure,  and  as  a 
means  of  improvement  in  his  art.  These  were 
studies  of  street  children  and  beggars.  Such  works 
are  known  as  genre  pictures,  because  they  reproduce 
directly  the  scenes  of  common  life,  just  as  they  are 
found  by  the  artist. 

The  city  of  Seville,  where  Murillo  lived,  was  full 
of  picturesque  scenes  at  every  turn.  In  southern 
Spain  -the  common  people  spend  much  of  their  time 
in  the  open  air,  chatting  in  street  and  market-place, 
and  lounging  in  doorways  and  windows.  They  are 
a  rather  indolent  race,  good-natured,  full  of  fun,  and 
easily  pleased.  They  are  a  handsome  people  too, 
with  rich  olive  slvins,  brilliant  dark  eyes,  and  glossy 
black  hair.  The  bright  colors  which  they  love  to 
wear  set  off  their  charms  to  perfection. 

Murillo  was  a  keen  observer  of  people  and  things. 
As  he  came  and  went  through  the  streets,  his  quick 
eye  caught  here  a  smiling  face,  there  a  stalwart 
figure,  yonder  an  effective  sash  or  shawl :  the  city 
was  full  of  life  and  color. 


14  MURILLO 

It  was  no  doubt  during  some  of  his  strolls  about 
the  city  that  he  chanced  to  see  this  jolly  little  boy 
leaning  on  a  window  ledge.  There  was  something 
going  on  in  the  street  which  amused  the  little  fellow 
mightily,  and  a  broad  grin  appeared  on  the  round 
face.  Quite  unconsciously  he  made  a  charming  pic- 
ture, and  in  a  single  glance  the  painter  took  in  the 
scene  and  resolved  to  put  it  on  canvas. 

Nowadays  a  boy  leaning  out  of  a  window  is  pretty 
sure  to  be  caught  by  the  snap  shot  of  some  camera. 
Something  of  the  same  sort  befell  the  boy  of  our 
story  on  this  day,  long  before  the  invention  of  pho- 
tography. The  painter's  eye  could  take  a  snap  shot 
almost  as  quickly  as  a  camera,  and  the  picture  was 
photographed  on  his  memory.  When  he  actually 
began  to  paint  it,  no  doubt  the  boy  himself  was 
called  in,  that  the  artist  might  study  the  face  more 
carefully. 

He  is  a  happy-go-lucky  little  fellow  with  nothing 
to  do  all  day  but  to  laugh  and  grow  fat.  There  are 
no  lessons  to  puzzle  his  brain  and  no  schoolmaster's 
floggings  to  fear.  There  was  no  "  compulsory  edu- 
cation "  in  these  long-ago  days.  Life  is  one  long 
holiday,  and  if  he  is  sometimes  hungry  he  is  not  the 
boy  to  cry  for  a  little  thing  like  that.  Something 
is  sure  to  turn  up  by  and  by.  In  the  mean  time 
there  are  plenty  of  ways  to  amuse  one's  self.  One 
might  even  stay  all  day  at  the  window  and  find 
something  to  see. 

Little  donkeys  patter  by  over  the  cobblestones, 
laden  with  huge  panniers  of  straw  or  charcoal.     A 


from  a  oaiboa  print  b;  Brauo,  t'lemeDt  \-  Co. 


Jotiti  AuUrew  &i  &uD,  Do. 


BOY    AT   THE   WINDOW 

National  Gallery,  London 


BOY   AT   THE   WINDOW  17 

guitar-player  strolls  along-,  thruinming-  the  strings  of 
his  instrument  to  accompany  the  love  song  which  he 
sings.  Fruit- venders  pass,  bearing  their  heaped-np 
baskets  and  calling  aloud  their  wares.  Perhaps  a 
nobleman  may  chance  to  come  this  way  and  will  toss 
him  a  coin. 

'  Such  are  some  o£  the  figures  which  we  may 
imagine  passing  by  the  face  at  the  window.  It  is  a 
round  little  face,  lighted  by  dancing  black  eyes  which 
are  full  of  innocent  mischief.  The  boy  has  a  snub 
nose  and  a  large  mouth.  His  parted  lips  show  a 
gleaming  row  of  teeth.  The  Spanish  are  noted  for 
their  fine  white  teeth,  and  a  witty  traveller  has  said, 
"  They  are  quite  capable  of  laughing  on  purpose  to 
show  them."  The  child's  black  hair  is  so  glossy  that 
the  light  is  reflected  from  it  as  from  a  polished  sur- 
face. His  blouse  is  slipping  down  on  one  side,  and 
we  see  his  plump  neck  and  shoulders.  In  this  warm 
climate  the  poor  people  go  about  half  clad. 

We<-like  to  think  that  the  boy  and  the  painter 
grew  to  be  friends.  As  there  are  other  pictures  of 
the  same  child,  we  feel  sure  he  must  have  been  a 
frequent  visitor  at  the  studio.  An  open-hearted, 
confidino:  little  fellow  like  this  could  not  fail  to  win 
the  heart  of  the  genial  Murillo,  whom  everybody 
loved.  A  useful  little  friend,  too,  the  boy  proved  to 
be ;  it  was  good  practice  for  the  ])ainter  to  study 
the  well-shaped  liead  and  plump  neck  and  shoulders. 
An  artist  can  teach  himself  a  great  deal  by  painting 
the  same  model  many  times  in  different  positions. 

Such  (jvnre  pictures  as  this  were  very  helpful  to 


18  MURILLO 

Mui'illo  as  preparatory  studies  for  his  great  histori- 
cal pictures.  In  some  of  these  he  had  hirge  com- 
panies of  people  to  paint.  Now  when  an  artist 
paints  a  crowd  he  can  make  it  more  natural  and  life- 
like if  he  puts  in  people  he  has  actually  seen.  So 
with  Murillo.  When  he  painted  the  large  companies 
in  his  historical  pictures,  he  filled  in  with  the  same 
figures  he  had  already  painted  from  life  in  his  genre 
studies.  There  is,  for  instance,  a  large  painting  of 
the  Israelites  at  the  rock  of  Horeb,^  in  which  you 
can  easily  make  out  a  boy  in  the  crowd  much  like 
this  Boy  at  the  Window.  Thus  the  painter  knew 
how  to  adapt  the  material  which  lay  around  him  to 
the  various  purposes  of  his  art. 

^  Tliis  is  the  large  painting  in  the  Hospital  of  Charity,  Seville, 
usually  called  Moses  Striking  the  Rock.  The  figure  referred  to  is  a 
boy  at  the  extreme  right  end  drinking  from  the  vessel  which  is  held 
to  his  lips. 

Note.  —  As  critics  are  by  no  means  agreed  in  interpreting  the 
subject  of  the  Parthenon  frieze,  the  writer  has  followed  the  most 
widely  circulated  opinion.  For  a  full  discussion  of  the  subject 
and  for  arguments  in  favor  of  a  different  theory  the  reader  is 
referred  to  Thomas  Davidson's  essay  The  Parthenon  Frieze, 
London,  1882. 


IV 

THE    ADORATION    OF    THE    SHEPHERDS 

The  story  of  the  first  Christmas  night  is  one  of 
the  dear  famihar  tales  we  like  to  hear  repeated.  It 
is  the  story  of  the  birth  of  Jesus  in  the  little  Judiean 
toAvn  of  Bethlehem.  It  happened  that  Mary  and 
Joseph  had  come  thither  from  their  home  in  Nazareth 
to  pay  their  taxes.  The  inn  where  they  lodged  was 
so  crowded  that  they  laid  the  new-born  babe  in  a 
mano-er  used  for  feedino-  cattle. 

Now  the  country  round  about  was  a  great  sheep 
country.  In  this  very  town  centuries  before  had 
lived  the  shepherd  David,  who  was  called  fi-oin 
his  flocks  to  be  anointed  kino\  The  surroundino* 
hillsides  made  "ood  oTazino-around,  and  in  this  mild 
climate  flocks  were  kept  out  all  night. 

On  the  night  of  Jesus'  birth  some  shepherds  were 
watching  their  sheep  when  a  strange  thing  ha})pened. 
The  story  is  told  by  the  evangelist  St.  Luke  in  these 
words :  "  And  there  were  in  the  same  country  shep- 
li^rds  abiding  in  the  field,  keeping  watch  over  their 
flock  by  night.  And,  lo,  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
came  upon  them,  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shone 
round  about  them  :  and  they  were  sore  afraid.  And 
the  angel  said  unto  them,  '  Fear  not ;  for  behold,  I 
bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be 


20  MURILLO 


to  all  people.  For  unto  you  is  born  this  day  in  the 
city  of  David  a  Saviour  which  is  Christ  the  Lord. 
And  this  shall  be  a  sign  unto  you;  ye  shall  find 
the  babe  wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes,  lying  in  a 


man  O'er.' 


"  And  suddenly  there  was  with  the  angel  a  multi- 
tude of  the  heavenly  host  praising  God,  and  saying, 
'  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace, 
good  will  toward  men.'  And  it  came  to  pass,  as  the 
angels  were  gone  away  from  them  into  heaven,  the 
shepherds  said  one  to  another,  '  Let  us  now  go  even 
unto  Bethlehem,  and  see  this  thing  which  is  come 
to  pass,  which  the  Lord  hath  made  known  unto  us.' 
And  they  came  with  haste,  and  found  Mary,  and 
Joseph,  and  the  babe  lying  in  a  manger." 

Our  picture  illustrates  this  story  of  the  shepherds' 
midnioht  visit  to  the  mano-er.  Three  of  them  have 
crowded  into  the  little  room,  in  the  dim  corner  of 
which  are  seen  the  heads  of  an  ox  and  an  ass.  Mary 
draws  back  the  coverlid  to  show  the  babe  to  the  vis- 
itors. She  takes  a  young  mother's  gentle  pride  in 
displaying  her  wonderful  new  treasure.  The  man 
in  the  rear  is  Joseph,  wearing  a  heavy  cloak  and  lean- 
ing on  his  staff.  He  contemplates  the  child  thought- 
fully, as  if  wondering  what  his  future  may  bring. 
The  shepherds  are  as  simple-hearted  as  children  in 
the  expression  of  their  admiration  and  delight. 

They  are  big,  powerfully  built  peasants  clad  in 
skin  and  homespun  garments.  One  of  them  kneels 
in  front,  and  we  see  the  upturned  soles  of  his  bare 
feet,  seamed  and   hardened   by  exposiu-e.      Beside 


IT. 

5 


U-.   >t 


-z.  ^ 

<     V. 
■v    S; 


THE   ADORATION  OF  THE   SHEPHERDS  23 

him  on  the  floor  He  the  fowl  which  he  has  brouoht 
as  a  gift  to  the  babe.  The  woman  behind  him  has 
a  basket  of  eggs,  and  the  yonth  accompanying 
her  leads  a  lamb.  These,  too,  are  gifts  snch  as 
peasant  farmers  would  naturally  bring.  They  have 
no  money  for  rich  presents,  and  they  choose  the 
best  that  they  have  of  their  own  raising.  The 
lamb  is  a  symbol  of  the  child's  innocence  as  the 
"  Lamb  of  God  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
world."  The  eggs  are  an  emblem  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion. 

The  light  of  the  composition  is  concentrated  upon 
the  child,  and  sliines  brightly  on  the  mother's  face. 
It  was  an  old  custom  of  painters  to  make  the  Christ 
child  the  source  of  light  in  a  picture,  as  symbolic  of 
his  character  as  the  Lioht  of  the  World.  In  this 
strong  light  we  can  see  what  a  beautiful  babe  he  is, 
with  plump  limbs  and  a  well-shaped  head. 

The  mother  bends  a  tender  glance  upon  him.  She 
is  a  gentle  young  woman  who  adapts  lierself  quite 
simply  to  her  strange  surroundings,  as  if  there  were 
nothino'  unusual  about  them.  There  is  indeed  no 
sign  of  the  sujjernatnral  in  the  ]ucture  except  in  the 
lio^ht  shinino-  from  the  child.  The  whole  sentiment 
is  that  of  a  simple,  homely,  every-day  religion. 

To  a  pious  nature  like  Murillo's  this  story  of  long 
ago  was  as  real  as  if  it  had  taken  place  in  his  own 
country  and  among  his  own  people.  So  instead  of 
casting-  about  in  his  mind  to  imaoine  some  strange 
scene,  he  represented  tlie  story  precisely  as  if  he  had 
himself  seen  it  in  a  country  town  of  Andalusia^ 


24  MURILLO 

There  is  an  old  Latin  Christmas  hymn  ^  which  dates 
from  the  mediaeval  period,  which  expresses  so  well  the 
religious  feeling  of  the  picture  that  it  is  pleasant 
to  read  it  in  this  connection.  Here  are  a  few  verses 
in  which  some  of  the  phrases  would  almost  seem  in= 
tended  to  describe  this  very  picture  :  — 

"  O  what  glad,  what  rapturous  feeling 
Filled  that  blessed  Mother  kneeling 
By  her  Sole-Begotten  One  1 
How  her  heart  with  laughter  bounding 
She  beheld  the  work  astounding 
Saw  his  birth,  the  glorious  Son. 

"  Jesus  lying  in  the  manger. 
Heavenly  armies  sang  the  Stranger, 
In  the  great  joy  bearing  part; 
Stood  the  Old  Man  with  the  Maiden, 
No  words  speaking,  only  laden 
With  this  wonder  in  their  heart. 

"Mother,  fount  of  love  still  flowing, 
Let  me,  with  thy  rapture  glowing. 
Learn  to  sympathize  with  thee. 
Let  me  raise  my  heart's  devotion. 
Up  to  Christ  with  pure  emotion, 
That  accepted  I  may  be. 

"  All  that  love  his  stable  truly, 
And  the  shepherds  watching  duly, 
Tarry  there  the  livelong  night; 
Pray  that  by  thy  Son's  dear  merit 
His  elected  may  inherit 
Their  own  country's  endless  light." 

'"■  "Stabat  Mater  Speciosa,"  translated  by  Dr.  Neale. 


THE    MADONNA    AND    CHILD 

The  child  Jesus  was  brought  up  in  the  little 
Galilean  town  of  Nazareth,  with  Marv  his  mother, 
and  her  husband  Joseph.  Strange  stories  were  told 
of  the  family,  and  it  was  said  that  they  were  in  com- 
munication with  the  ano-els.  Before  the  birth  of 
Jesus  Mary  had  been  visited  by  an  angel  to  tell  her 
of  the  o'reat  mission  he  was  comino-  to  fulfil.  On  the 
nio'ht  when  he  was  born,  ano-els  had  announced  his 
birth  to  some  shepherds  of  the  neighborhood.  When 
King  Herod  ordered  a  massacre  of  babes,  an  angel 
directed  Joseph  to  flee  with  his  family  to  Egypt. 
And  again,  on  the  death  of  Herod,  an  angel  had 
bidden  "them  return  to  their  own  country.  When 
at  last  they  settled  in  Nazareth,  Mary  herself  said 
little  of  all  these  things,  but  kept  them  in  her  heart. 

Everybody  knows  the  later  history  of  the  boy, 
how  he  went  about  preaching  and  doing  good,  and 
how  he  set  the  standard  of  ideal  manhood.  After 
all  these  centuries  the  story  of  his  life  is  repeated 
every  day  throughout  the  whole  world. 

It  is  natural  to  try  to  imagine  how  this  wonderful 
child  looked.  Artists  have  never  wearied  of  painting 
pictures  representing  the  mother  holding  him  in  her 
arms.     Such  pictures   are  called  the    Madonna  and 


26  MURILLO 

Child,  the  word  Madonna  meaning  "  My  lady,"  as 
the  Italians  address  the  Virgin.  The  Italian  word 
has  become  attached  to  the  subject  from  the  fact 
that  such  pictures  were  first  popular  in  Italy.  It 
was  a  favorite  subject  with  Murillo,  and  he  painted 
it  many  times. 

In  the  picture  reproduced  in  our  illustration  the 
Mother  sits  out  of  doors  beside  a  bit  of  ruined  wall, 
with  the  boy  on  her  capacious  lap,  nestling  against 
her  shoulder.  They  have  the  dark  eyes  and  black 
liair  of  the  Spanish  type.  One  could  easily  imagine 
that  the  painter,  walking  some  day  in  the  country, 
had  seen  just  such  a  mother  and  child  among  the 
peasants  of  Andalusia.  "Here,"  he  might  have  said 
to  himself,  "  is  a  sweet  young  mother  worthy  to 
represent  the  mother  of  Jesus,  and  here  is  a  babe 
whose  robust  little  fio-ure  would  serve  well  as  a 
model  for  the  Holv  Child." 

Evidently  it  did  not  occur  to  him  that  the  mother 
and  child  must  be  made  beautiful,  except  as  fine 
healthy  bodies  make  for  beauty.  Beauty  of  face  is 
not  an  essential  mark  of  beauty  of  soul.  Earnest- 
ness of  character  was  rather  what  he  sought  to  ex- 
press in  the  two  faces. 

They  are  indeed  rather  serious  faces  which  look 
out  of  the  canvas,  and  the  same  mood  is  upon  them 
both.  The  eves  do  not  meet  ours,  but  seem  to  be 
gazing  into  space,  as  if  in  a  waking  dream.  It  is  as 
if  they  awaited  the  approach  of  those  angel  visit- 
ants who  had  so  often  taken  them  under  their  pro- 
tection. 


from  a  oarboD  print  hj  Braun,  Clement  4  Co. 


JotiD  Andrew  t  Son,  So. 


THE    MADONNA    AND    CHILD 
T/te  Corsini  Gallery,  Rotne 


MADONNA   AND   CHILD  29 

But  while  their  expression  is  dreamy,  they  have 
the  open  countenances  betokening  a  frank  nature. 
The  little  bey  is  not  at  all  precocious-looking,  and 
we  might  not  predict  any  great  things  of  his  future. 
But  from  such  earnest,  simple-hearted  children  as 
this  grow  the  sturdy,  honest  men  who  are  the  hope 
of  the  world.  The  mother  does  not  appear  very 
intellectual,  but  motherhood  lends  a  touch  of  dignity 
to  her  bearing.  Her  mature  matronly  face  con- 
trasts with  the  girlish  beauty  of  the  Virgin  of  the 
Immaculate  Conception. 

Perhaps  what  we  like  best  about  the  picture  is 
that  it  is  so  natural  and  homely.  There  is  nothing 
stiff  or  affected  in  the  pose  of  the  figures.  Murillo 
did  not  even  surround  the  heads  with  the  halo,  or 
circle  of  light,  in  the  old  Italian  manner.  He  let 
the  faces  tell  their  own  story.  We  like  to  think 
that  were  the  Christ  child  born  again  in  the  midst 
of  us  to-dav,  we  mioht  find  him  sitting  with  his 
mothet-  by  the  wayside,  —  simple  earnest  country 
folk  like  these. 

We  do  not  always  appreciate  the  greatness  of  art 
when  it  is  so  simple  as  it  is  here,  and  Ave  must  study 
the  picture  carefully  to  learn  its  good  points.  We 
notice  that  the  main  lines  are  few  in  number,  and 
drawn  in  long  unbroken  sweeps.  The  line  of  the 
mother's  rioht  arm  flows  in  a  lonof  fine  curve  from 
neck  to  finger  tip.  Her  drapery  falls  in  simple 
folds.  We  can  see  how  much  stronger  such  a  com- 
position is  than  one  broken  mto  many  insignificant 
lines. 


30  MURILLO 

The  two  figures  fall  withiii  an  imaginary  pyramid 
outlining  the  group.  This  was  a  frequent  style  of 
composition  with  Murillo,  as  we  shall  see  in  other 
pictures  of  our  collection. 

The  light  of  the  picture  is  massed  in  the  upper 
part,  bringing  into  clear  relief  the  heads  of  the  two 
figures. 


VI 

EEBEKAH    AND    ELIEZER    AT    THE    WELL 

A  CHARMING  story  is  told  ill  the  Book  of  Genesis ' 
of  the  way  in  which  a  bride  was  chosen  for  Isaac. 
Isaac  was  the  son  of  the  patriarch  Abraham,  who 
had  left  his  native  country  and  had  gone  into  a 
strange  land  to  found  a  new  nation.  The  father, 
being  now  an  old  man,  desired  to  see  his  son  ha})pily 
married  to  a  maiden  of  their  own  country.  He  had 
a  faithful  servant  named  Eliezer,  who  was  at  the 
head  of  his  household  affairs.  To  him  he  intrusted 
the  delicate  task  of  ijoinof  in  search  of  a  wife.  The 
servant  naturally  felt  doubtful  about  the  success  of 
his  errand,  but  Abraham  reassured  him.  "The  Lord 
God  of  Heaven  shall  send  his  angel  before  thee,'' 
said  the  godly  old  man. 

So  Eliezer  took  ten  camels  and  departed,  and  when 
he  drew  near  the  city  of  Nahor  he  made  liis  plans. 
Takinix  his  stand  bv  a  well,  he  knew  that  in  the 
course  of  the  day  the  maidens  of  the  city  would 
come  thither  for  water.  He  prayed  God  to  help 
him  make  his  choice  in  this  way  :  "  Let  it  come  to 
pass,"  he  asked,  "  that  the  damsel  to  whom  I  shall 
sfiy,  '  Let  down  thy  pitcher,  I  pray  thee,  that  I  may 
drink  ;'  and  she  shall  say,  '  Drink,  and  I  will  give  thy 

^   Gennsis,  clinptcr  x.xiv 


32  MURILLO 

camels  drink  also  : '  let  the  same  be  she  that  thou 
hast  appointed  for  thy  servant  Isaac." 

Hardly  had  he  spoken  these  words  when  a  dam= 
sel  "  very  fair  to  look  upon  "  appeared  at  the  well. 
Running  to  meet  her,  Eliezer  said,  "  '  Let  me,  I  pray 
thee,  drink  a  little  Avater  of  thy  pitcher.'  And  she  said, 
'  Drink,  my  lord : '  and  she  hasted  and  let  down  her 
pitcher  upon  her  hand,  and  gave  him  drink.  And 
when  she  had  done  giving  him  drink,  she  said, '  I 
will  draw  water  for  thy  camels  also,  until  they  have 
done  drinking.'  And  she  hasted,  and  emptied  her 
pitcher  into  the  trough,  and  ran  again  unto  the  well 
to  draw  water,  and  drew  for  all  his  camels."  Thus 
far  all  was  well,  and  now  Eliezer  drew  forth  a  gift 
of  earrings  and  bracelets  and  inquired  the  maiden's 
name.  He  was  delighted  to  learn  that  she  was 
Rebekah,  the  daughter  of  Nahor  and  Bethuel,  who 
were  kinsfolk  of  Abraham. 

The  family  received  Eliezer  with  hospitality,  but 
he  said,  "  I  will  not  eat  until  I  have  told  mine 
errand."  So  he  related  how  Abraham  had  sent 
him  forth  to  seek  a  wife  for  Isaac  among  their  kins- 
folk ;  how  he  had  been  troubled  in  his  mind  how  to 
make  the  choice ;  how  he  had  planned  to  choose  the 
first  damsel  who  offered  water  both  to  him  and  his 
camels;  and  how  Rebekah  had  been  this  maiden. 
"  Then  Laban  [the  brother]  and  Bethuel  [the  mo- 
ther] answered  and  said,  '  The  thing  proceedeth 
from  the  Lord.  .  .  .  Behold,  Rebekah  is  before  thee, 
take  her  and  go.'  .  .  .  And  they  called  Rebekah, 
and  said  unto  her,  '  Wilt  thou  go  with  this  man  ? ' 
And  she  saidj  '  I  Avill  go.'  " 


w 

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REBEKAH   AND   ELIEZER   AT   THE   WELL  35 

Rich  presents  were  now  distributed  by  Eliezer, 
and  there  was  much  eatino'  and  drinkiu"-.  The 
next  morning  the  party  set  forth,  Rebekah  and  her 
maidens  riding-  on  the  camels.  On  the  way  Isaac 
came  to  meet  them,  and  when  Rebekah  saw  him  she 
alighted  from  her  camel.  The  two  were  happily 
married  and  lived  together  to  a  good  old  age. 

Our  picture  illustrates  that  moment  in  the  story 
when  Eliezer,  having  asked  for  a  drink,  receives 
the  answer  he  has  fixed  upon  as  a  sign.  He  stoops 
and  drinks  eaoerly  from  the  vessel  which  Rebekah 
holds  to  his  mouth.  It  is  the  hour  of  sunset,  and 
the  young  woman  has  come  to  the  well  with  three 
of  her  maidens,  all  carrying  large  earthen  jars  to 
fill  with  water.  In  primitive  times  water  was 
brouo-ht  a  lono-  distance  from  the  house,  and  such 
woi'k  often  fell  to  the  women.  This  was  the  case, 
no  doubt,  in  the  country  about  Seville,  where  Murillo 
must  often  have  seen  groups  quite  like  the  one  in 
the  picture.  The  sunny  climate  of  Spain,  Avith  its 
blue  skies,  is  indeed  not  widely  different  from  that 
eastern  land  in  which  the  scene  of  the  story  is  laid. 
The  Spanish  maidens  have  the  dark  eyes,  black  hair, 
and  brilliant  color  of  Oriental  beauties.  So  this 
picture,  which  is  really  a  wayside  scene  in  Andalu- 
sia,^ is  a  fitting  illustration  of  the  old  story  of  Pal- 
estine. It  expresses  perfectly  the  spirit  of  the  buov- 
ant  happy  out-of-door  life  in  warm  climates,  where 
it  is  fjood  merely  to  be  alive. 

'  Compare  the  faee  of  Rebekah  with  that  of  tlie  Madonna  of  the 
Corsiui  Gallery  (page  26),  evidently  from  the  same  model. 


36  MURILLO 

Rebekuh's  maidens  are  all  pretty,  but  their  mis- 
tress is  plainly  their  superior.  There  is  an  air  of 
distinction  in  her  bearing  which  the  others  lack. 
They  do  not  conceal  their  curiosity  in  regard  to  this 
stranger.  Visitors  are  rare,  and  they  stare  boldly  into 
his  face,  wondering  who  he  is,  whence  he  came,  and 
whither  he  goes.  Not  so  Rebekah.  She  is  too  well 
bred  to  betray  her  curiosity,  and  turns  her  face 
aside  modestly  as  Eliezer  bends  his  head  to  drink. 
She  has  the  gentle  face  of  a  submissive  nature,  and 
a  trusting  childlike  expression  as  of  one  who  would 
readily  put  confidence  in  a  stranger.  Her  strong 
robust  figure  shows  her  quite  equal  to  the  heavy 
work  of  water-carrying.  In  the  distance  are  the 
camels  waiting  their  turn  for  water. 

As  we  study  the  picture,  we  see  that  the  artist 
took  pains  to  give  Rebekah  the  place  of  honor,  in 
the  centre  of  the  composition.  Of  the  other  maid- 
ens two  are  seen  only  in  half-length,  and  the  third 
in  a  rear  view.  Rebekah  stands  beside  the  well,  her 
finely  proportioned  figure  in  full  view,  and  her  well- 
poised  head  turned  to  show  her  entire  face.  Eliezer 
is  of  secondary  importance.  Though  his  sturdy 
frame  is  displayed  to  good  advantage,  his  face  is 
turned  away.  Because  of  his  stooping  posture  he 
is  overtopped  by  Rebekah,  who  stands  apart  in  the 
centre,  the  tallest  and  finest  figure  of  the  picture. 


VII 

THE    DICE    PLAYERS 

Three  children  and  a  dog  make  up  a  party  of 
boon  companions  gatiiered  near  the  corner  of  a 
ruined  walL  They  are  httle  hoodhims  of  the 
poorest  class,  half  clad  in  ragged  garments.  They 
pick  up  their  scanty  living  as  best  they  may,  by 
begging  in  the  streets  of  tlie  great  city. 

All  the  large  cities  of  southern  Europe  swarm 
with  beggar  children.  In  Rome,  Naples,  and  Se- 
ville the  modern  traveller  is  beset  with  them,  and  it 
was  much  the  same  way  in  Murillo's  time.  One's 
needs  are  very  few  in  tliese  southern  countries.  The 
climate  is  so  mild  that  the  poor  take  no  thought 
about  __clothing  and  shelter,  and  the  soil  yields  so 
abundantly  that  food  costs  little.  A  crust  of  bread 
and  a  bit  of  fruit  are  always  to  be  had  for  the  ask- 
inof.  These  conditions  and  the  enervatino-  climate 
tend  to  make  the  people  indolent.  They  are,  how^- 
ever,  so  good-natured  and  merry,  that  for  all  their 
idleness  we  cannot  help  liking  them.  Some  of  the 
child  besfcars  are  so  bewdtchino-  in  their  manners 
that  it  is  hard  to  refuse  them  a  coin. 

Such  are  the  children  of  our  picture.  What 
passer-by  could  resist  the  appeal  of  these  little  faces 
when  lifted  with  a  confichng  smile?     It  appears  that 


38  MURILLO 

they  have  indeed  reaped  a  harvest  of  coins,  and  have 
straightway  repaired  to  this  retired  spot  to  stake 
them  in  a  g-ame  of  dice.  A  laroe  flat  stone  serves 
admirably  for  a  table. 

Two  are  engaged  in  tlie  game,  while  the  third 
stands  near  by,  idly  eating  a  crust  of  bread.  His 
little  dog  watches  every  mouthful  eagerly,  and  ex- 
presses his  mind  as  plainly  as  if  he  could  speak,  but 
his  young  master  seems  to  have  completely  forgotten 
him. 

The  dice  players  bend  over  their  game  in  an  ani- 
mated discussion,  but  with  perfect  good  nature. 
Each  keeps  the  count  on  the  fingers  of  the  right 
hand.  From  his  pleased  expression,  the  boy  in  the 
rear  seems  to  be  the  winner  in  this  throw. 

They  are  not  pretty  children,  but  their  lithe  young 
Hmbs  are  well  modelled  in  the  curves  which  artists 
love.  The  child  on  this  side  wears  a  branch  of  vine 
leaves  in  his  hair,  cbooping  at  one  side  from  a  sort 
of  fillet  bound  about  the  head.  One  is  reminded  of 
the  younof  Bacchus,  the  Greek  ofod  of  wine,  whose 
figure  is  often  seen  in  classic  sculpture  crowned  with 
^^ne  leaves.  The  Spanish  have  an  inherent  sense  of 
the  picturesque,  and  dearly  love  all  kinds  of  personal 
adornment.  We  see  this  trait  in  the  costly  jewels 
worn  by  rich  seiioritas  and  the  rose  which  the 
peasant  girl  wears  in  her  hair.  Even  a  child  like 
this  shows  the  artist  in  him  with  a  bit  of  decora- 
tion. 

The  boy  standing  at  one  side  cares  nothing  for 
the  game,  and  appears  entirely  oblivious  of  his  sur- 


Fr.  HaofstacDgl,  photo. 


John  Andrew  &  Soo,  Sc. 


THE   DICE    PLAYERS 
Munich  Gallery 


THE  DICE   PLAYERS  41 

roundings.  He  is  lost  in  a  day-dream,  and  gazes 
before  him  into  space.  It  is  a  pathetic  httle  face, 
full  of  childish  yearnino;.  The  child  seems  of  a 
more  poetic  and  sensitive  temperament  than  his  com- 
panions. One  wonders  why  he  is  so  thoughtful,  and 
if  he  really  is  unhappy.  Certainly  he  is  not  hungry, 
for  he  clasps  in  his  left  arm  a  big  loaf  of  bread,  and 
he  bites  very  deliberately  into  the  slice  he  u  eating. 
Perhaps  he  himself  could  hardly  tell  just  why  he 
feels  in  this  discontented  mood. 

This  is  a  child  whom  we  should  sinale  out  in  a 
crowd  of  beggar  children  when  the  other  two  would 
pass  unnoticed.  He  is,  in  fact,  the  principal  figure 
of  the  picture.  His  large  eyes  are  very  expressive ; 
his  head  is  well  shaped  and  well  set  on  his  shoulders; 
his  curls  fall  about  his  face  in  cliarmino-  rinolets. 
With  another  and  happier  expression  he  might  be 
really  beautiful.  A  painter  like  Murillo  would  be 
quick  to  see  the  artistic  possibilities  of  such  a  figure. 

The  whole  picture  is  a  perfect  transcript  of  the 
life  of  the  streets  :  it  has  its  merry,  happy-go-lucky 
side,  but  the  pathetic  element  is  always  present. 
Murillo,  as  a  true  interpreter  of  human  nature,  knew 
how  closely  akin  are  humor  and  pathos.  This  scene 
is  indeed  so  thoroughly  human  and  typical  that  one 
might  come  upon  its  counterpart  any  day  in  some  of 
our  great  cities,  as,  for  instance,  in  the  Italian  quar- 
ters of  Boston  or  New  York.  The  picture  shows, 
too,  how  well  Murillo  knew  the  ways  of  children. 
Few  painters  have  equalled  him  in  this  respect. 
Children  of  all  sorts  and  conditions  appealed  strongly 


42  MURILLO 


to  his  sympathies ;  he  seemed  never  to  tire  of  paint- 


ing  them. 


Like  the  Boy  at  the  Window,  the  picture  of  the 
Dice  Players  is  a  genre  painting,  intended,  as  it  were, 
for  practice.  How  useful  a  study  it  afterwards 
proved  we  shall  presently  see  in  another  picture= 


VIII 

THE    EDUCATION    OF    THE    VIRGIN 

Many  pretty  stories  are  told  of  the  infancy  and 
girlhood  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  It  is  believed  that  she 
was  more  precocious  than  other  children,  and  more 
gentle  and  teachable  in  her  nature.  Some  of  the 
painters  have  delighted  to  represent  her  as  a  child 
at  her  mother's  knee,  as  in  this  picture  by  Murillo. 

Mary  was  the  daughter  of  Joachim  and  xVnna, 
rich  people  of  Nazareth.  They  were  a  devout  fam- 
ily, and  divided  their  snbstance  into  three  parts,  one 
for  the  poor,  one  for  the  service  of  the  temple,  and 
the  third  for  their  household.  The  one  "ift  denied 
them,  and  which  they  greatly  longed  for,  was  a  child. 
At  length,  in  their  old  age,  Mary  was  born  to  them, 
and  they  rejoiced  in  their  daughter. 

From  the  first  the  child  was  dedicated  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  and  was  brought  up  with  pecnliar  care. 
The  parents  expected  great  things  of  her,  and  the 
mother  watched  her  grow  from  day  to  day.  We 
know  how  in  royal  families  a  young  princess  is  edu- 
cated from  her  earliest  childhood  to  meet  her  future 
responsibilities.  She  learns  foreign  languages,  that 
she  may  converse  with  people  of  all  nations.  She  is 
taught  the  social  graces,  that  she  may  be  at  ease 
among  her  subjects.     She  is  trained  to  self-control, 


44  MURILLO 

that  she  may  be  fitted  to  control  others.  She  is 
exhorted  to  love  and  obey  God,  that  she  may  be  a 
worthy  princess.  Now,  Mary  was  brought  up  much 
after  this  manner.  Like  a  princess,  she  was  destined 
to  fill  a  place  of  great  responsibility  in  life.  We 
like  to  know  how  faithfully  her  mother  prepared  her 
for  her  life-work. 

In  our  picture  we  see  the  two  at  one  of  the  daily 
lessons.  A  basket  of  sewing-work  is  on  the  floor  at 
one  side,  and  they  are  reading  together  from  some 
wise  book.  They  seem  to  have  come  to  a  saying 
which  is  hard  for  the  little  girl  to  understand,  and 
the  mother  explains  the  meaning.  The  child  her- 
self holds  the  open  book,  but  to  save  the  tender 
hand  from  the  weight  of  the  thick  volume,  the 
mother  grasps  it  firmly  at  the  top.  As  the  reading 
proceeds  the  little  pupil  follows  the  lines  with  the 
fino^er  of  her  rioht  hand.  She  still  holds  the  fing-er 
on  the  spot  where  they  have  stopped,  lest  she  lose 
the  place. 

The  mother  is  an  elderly  woman,  as  she  is  de- 
scribed by  tradition.  Her  strong,  well-cut  face 
shows  the  firmness  of  character  and  dignity  which 
come  from  years  of  experience.  The  little  girl 
takes  her  lessons  seriously.  Though  lier  mother 
speaks  with  an  encouraging  smile,  the  little  mouth 
is  set  very  soberly,  and  the  eyes  have  an  almost  wist- 
ful expression.  She  seems  to  find  lessons  very  per- 
plexing, and  perhaps  she  wishes  that  she  might  run 
and  play  as  freely  as  other  children. 

The  modern  English  artist  poet,  Rossetti,  thought 


From  a  carbon  print  by  Braun,  Clemont  &  Co. 


John  Andrew  &  Son,  So. 


THE   EDUCATION    OF   THE   VIRGIN 
T/ie  Frado  Gallery,  Madrid 


THE   EDUCATION   OF  THE   VIRGIN  47 

a  great  deal  about  the  girlhood  of  the  Virgin,  and 
himself  painted  an  imaginary  scene  of  that  subject. 
He  also  wrote  a  poem  to  the  Virgin,  in  which  these 
lines  touch  upon  the  mystery  of  her  girlliood :  — 

"  Work  and  play 
Things  common  to  the  course  of  day, 
Awed  thee  with  meanings  unfulfilled; 
And  all  through  girlhood,  something  stilled 
Thy  senses  like  the  birth  of  light, 
When  thou  hast  trimmed  thy  lamp  at  night 
Or  washed  thy  garments  in  the  stream ; 
To  whose  white  bed  had  come  the  dream 
That  he  was  thine  and  thou  wast  His 
Who  feeds  among  the  tield-lilies." 

The  lines  help  us  to  interpret  the  child's  expres- 
sion in  the  picture.  The  little  girl  seems  "  awed  " 
with  the  "  unfulfilled  meanino-s "  of  her  lesson. 
Her  face  is  of  one  who  has  had  stranofe  dreams  of 
the  solemnity  of  life. 

Hovering  in  the  air,  unseen  by  mother  and  daugh- 
ter, are  two  baby  angels  who  hold  a  wreath  of  flowers 
over  tlie  cliild's  head. 

Our  curiosity  is  not  a  little  aroused  by  the  quaint 
costumes  of  both  figures  in  the  picture.  The  mother 
wears  on  her  head  a  thin  mantle  or  veil,  which  falls 
in  folds  over  her  shoulders.  The  child  is  dressed  in 
a  long  gown  sweeping  the  floor,  and  made  with  high 
neck  and  lono;  sleeves.  The  thick  blond  hair  is 
parted  on  one  side,  f;dling  to  the  shoulders,  and 
adorned  with  a  white  rose.  It  is  evidently  the  dress 
worn  by  Spanish  children  of  the  upper  classes  in 
the  seventeenth  century.  To  confirm  this  belief 
we   have  only  to  turn  to  the  portraits  by  Murillo's 


48  MURILLO 

contemporary,  Velasquez,  to  find  children  similarly 
dressed.  In  fact,  the  little  Virgin  is  not  unlike  the 
young  princess  Margaret  whom  Velasquez  painted. 

Probably  both  Mary  and  her  mother  are  actually 
portraits,  and  some  have  suggested  that  the  origi- 
nals may  have  been  the  painter's  own  daughter  and 
wife.  It  is  said  that  Rossetti's  mother  and  sister  sat 
to  him  for  his  picture  of  this  subject. 

It  matters  little  who  were  the  models  for  any 
great  picture  so  long  as  the  painter  succeeds  in  ex- 
pressing the  character  appropriate  to  the  persons 
represented.  Certainly  this  fine  old  woman  is  worthy 
to  be  the  mother  of  the  Viroin.  The  little  o-irl  her- 
self  has  a  face  innocent  and  serious  enough  to  por- 
tray the  childhood  of  one  who  was  called  "  blessed 
amongf  women." 

As  in  many  houses  in  Spain,  the  room  in  which 
the  Virgin  is  seen  opens  on  a  balcony,  and  the  pic- 
ture is  therefore  lig-hted  from  out  of  doors. 


IX 

JESUS    AND    JOHN 
{The  Children  of  the  Shell) 

Jesus  had  a  cousin  John  about  his  own  age,  the 
son  of  a  priest,  Zacharias,  and  his  wife  Elizabeth. 
The  Uves  of  the  two  cousins  were  bound  too-ether  in 
a  very  sacred  rehition.  Before  the  birth  of  either 
the  parents  had  received  angehc  messages  concern- 
ing the  future  of  their  cliikh-en.  John  was  to  be  a 
preacher  and  to  prepare  the  way  for  Jesus.  When 
he  grew  to  manhood  he  took  up  his  w^ork  boklly  and 
announced  Jesus  as  the  Messiah.  He  was  called 
John  the  Baptist,  because  he  baptized  his  followers 
in  the^  Jordan.  At  last  he  was  thrown  into  prison 
and  beheaded  because  he  had  condemned  the  sins  of 
the  kino-. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  that  the  two  cousins  may 
have  been  playmates  in  childhood.  Though  John 
was  the  elder,  Jesus  would  always  be  the  leader  by 
natural  rioht.  Even  in  bovhood  their  distinctive 
characteristics  would  l)egin  to  show.  John  was  a 
rugged,  vigorous  boy,  frankly  outspoken  in  his  opin- 
ions, but  quick  to  recognize  the  superiority  of  his 
cousin.  Jesus  was  of  a  gentler,  more  refined  nature, 
thouo-htf  ul  and  lovino-  to  all. 


50  MURILLO 

Our  picture  shows  the  two  children  playing  to- 
gether out  of  doors  in  happy  companionship,  with  a 
lamb  for  a  playfellow.  Heated  with  their  romp, 
they  seek  water  from  the  brook,  and  Jesus,  using  a 
shell  as  a  drinking-cup,  holds  it  to  John's  Hps.  This 
is  the  imaginary  story  we  read  in  the  picture,  but  it 
evidently  has  a  higher  meaning.  It  is  a  sort  of  pic- 
ture allegory  symbolizing  the  future  mission  of  the 
children  and  the  relation  between  them. 

The  little  Baptist  is  clad  in  a  skin  garment  such 
as  it  is  supposed  he  afterwards  wore  during  his 
sojourn  in  the  wilderness.  As  the  forerunner  of 
Christ,  he  carries  a  reed  cross  about  which  is  wound 
a  banderole  inscribed  with  the  words  Ecce  Agnus 
Dei.  This  is  the  Latin  form  of  the  sreetino-  with 
which  John  met  the  Saviour  at  the  river  Jordan, 
'''  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God."  The  lamb  is  another 
reminder  of  the  same  words.  The  water  that  Jesus 
gives  his  cousin  symbolizes  the  water  of  life.  He 
offers  it  with  a  pretty  little  gesture  of  authority,  and 
his  companion  drinks  eagerly,  as  if  to  quench  a  great 
thirst. 

The  Christ  child  is  a  beautiful  golden-haired  boy 
with  a  winning  smile.  His  happy,  sunny  nature 
shines  on  his  round  little  face.  The  boy  Baptist 
is  of  a  contrasted  type,  more  swarthy  and  hardy  in 
appearance,  and  of  a  rather  serious  nature.  Just 
above  the  children's  heads,  through  an  opening  in 
the  clouds,  a  group  of  baby  angels  peep  down  upon 
them  as  if  they,  too,  would  join  the  Jjlay.  The 
golden  light  surrounding  them  makes  a  bright  back- 


tfi 


fa 


51 


Pi 


c 


&  2 


D 
m 


JESUS   AND   JOHN  53 

PTOund  against  which  the  Christ  child's  head  is  seen. 
The  okl  Italian  artists  used  to  surround  Christ's 
head  with  a  halo,  and  here  a  similar  eliect  is  pro- 
duced more  simply. 

The  artistic  qualities  of  our  picture  deserve  care- 
ful study,  for  this  is  one  of  the  most  noted  works  of 
Murillo  in  the  great  gallery  at  Madrid.  The  figures, 
we  notice,  are  arranged  in  a  pyramidal  composition, 
with  the  apex  at  the  Christ  child's  head.  On  the 
right  side,  the  oblique  line  runs  along  the  edge  of 
St.  John's  back,  while  the  balancing  line  on  the  left 
is  formed  by  the  figure  of  the  lamb.  These  enclos- 
ing lines,  however,  are  not  straight,  but  are  drawn 
in  waving"  curves.  There  is  nothinof  ''  set  "  about 
the  picture.  The  angel  heads  in  the  upper  air  also 
relieve  the  over-prominence  of  the  pyramidal  form. 
The  color  of  the  original  painting  is  very  wonderful. 
It  is  suffused  with  a  beautiful  misty  golden  atmo- 
sphere. 

The  picture  of  Jesus  and  John  makes  an  interest- 
ing contrast  to  the  picture  of  the  Dice  Players,  which 
we  have  already  seen.  The  Sevillian  street  beggars 
are  evidently  drawn  from  life.  We  call  the  picture 
realistic,  because  the  figures  are  real  children.  Jesus 
and  John,  on  the  other  hand,  are  child  ideals.  They 
represent  the  painter's  conception  of  perfect  child- 
ish beauty,  and  so  we  call  the  picture  a  work  of 
idealism,. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  doubtless  just  some  such 
street  children  as  the  Dice  Players  wdio  furnished, 
as  it  were,  the  material  for  Jesus  and  John.      The 


54  MURILLO 

■wistful  little  beggar  dreamily  eating  a  piece  of  bread 
may  well  have  been  the  model  for  the  Christ  child; 
the  head  is  indeed  strikingly  like.  In  the  dice 
player  who  wears  the  crown  of  vine  leaves  we  see 
the  same  faun-like  face  as  in  the  little  Baptist.  Even 
the  attitudes  of  both  children  are  similar  in  the  two 
pictures.  It  is  as  if  the  painter  found  in  these  types 
from  real  life  some  suo-oestion  of  the  ideal  beaut v 
which  he  was  in  -search  of.  It  needed  only  the 
mairic  of  his  art  to  transform  them  into  the  beauti- 
ful  ideals  of  his  imao-ination. 


X 


THE    HOLY    FAMILY 

The  family  circle  in  which  Jesus  grew  up  ii. 
Nazareth  is  always  spoken  of  as  the  '•  liolv  family." 
Hence  a  picture  representing-  the  Mother  and  Child, 
accompanied  by  any  other  relative,  is  called  a  Holy 
Family.  Our  illustration  shows  such  a  group.  'Die 
two  mothers,  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  are  here  with 
their  children,  the  cousins  Jesus  and  John. 

Thouo-h  there  was  a  o'reat  difference  in  tlie  a!>es 
of  the  two  women,  the  friendship  between  them  liad 
begun  in  the  days  ])ef()re  their  boys  were  born. 
Mary  had  paid  a  visit  to  her  cousin  Ehzabeth  in  the 
hill  country,  and  thev  had  talked  together  of  the 
future  destinies  of  then-  chddren.  Both  must  have 
been  .anxious  to  pre|)are  their  scnis  for  the  great 
career  predicted  for  them  by  the  angels. 

Day  by  day  Marv  watched  Jesus  grow  "  in    wis 
dom  and  stature  and   in  favor  with  God  and  man." 
The  great  English   ])oet   Milton   has  described  Jesus 
as  referrino-  thus   to    his    mother's  influence  on  hr 
childhood  :  — 

"  Tliese  growiii}^  tlioughts  my  nu)tlicr  sijoii  jjerceiviiif^ 
Bv  words  at  times  east  forth,  inly  rejoiced, 
And  said  to  me  apart,  '  Iligli  ar<'  tliy  tlioiiohts, 
O  iSon ;   but  iioiirisli  tliem  and  let  them  soar 
To  what  heioht  sacred  virtue  and  true  worth 
Can  raise  them,  though  above  example  high." " 


56  MURILLO 

We  may  well  believe  that  Elizabeth,  on  her  part, 
trained  her  little  John  to  reverence  his  cousin  Jesus. 
A  spirit  of  true  humility  seems  to  have  been  im- 
pressed upon  the  child.  In  after  life  he  declared 
himself  unworthy  to  unloose  the  latchet  of  Jesus' 
shoes. 

In  our  picture  Mary  sits  on  a  mound  with  the 
Christ  child  standing  erect  on  her  lap.  His  right 
elbow  rests  lightly  on  his  mother's  bosom  to  steady 
himseK,  and  her  strong,  motherly  arms  hold  him 
firmly.  Elizabeth  kneels  on  the  ground,  pressing 
the  little  skin-clad  Baptist  forward  to  receive  the 
cross  from  Jesus.  We  see  at  once  that  tlie  picture 
does  not  represent  any  ordinary  scene  in  family  hfe. 
The  subject  is  devotional  rather  than  domestic.  Like 
our  other  picture  of  Jesus  and  John,  it  is  an  allegory 
to  show  the  sacred  mission  of  the  two  children. 

The  cross  is  an  emblem  of  suffering,  because  Jesus 
afterwards  died  upon  the  cross.  He  taught  that 
whosoever  taketh  not  up  his  cross  is  not  worthy 
of  him  (Matt.  x.  38).  John  therefore  receives  it 
bravely,  willing  to  endure  anything  for  the  sake 
of  Jesus.  In  his  hand  the  boy  Baptist  carries  the 
scroll  which  is  to  be  fastened  to  the  cross,  as  in 
the  other  picture  (page  51).  Again  there  is  a  little 
lamb  to  suo'o-est  the  o-entle  character  of  Christ.  It 
is  written  of  him  that  when  he  was  persecuted,  "as 
a  sheep  before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened  not 
his  mouth." 

In  the  upper  air  a  fatherly  figure  seems  to  lean 
out  of  heaven  with  hands  outstretched  in  benedic- 


From  a  carbon  print  by  BrauD,  Clement  i  Co. 


John  Andrew  t  Son,  So. 


THE    HOLY   FAMILY 
T/ie  Lout  re,  Paris 


THE   HOLY   FAMH^Y  59 

tion.  We  are  thus  reminded  that  our  Heavenly 
Father's  care  is  always  over  his  children.  A  dove 
hovers  over  Jesus'  head,  as  ou  the  day  of  his  baptism 
in  the  river  Jordan. 

Althouo'h  there  is  so  much  solemn  meanino-  in  the 
picture,  it  is  a  very  happy  scene.  All  eyes  centre 
upon  the  Christ  child,  who  is  indeed  a  lovely  boy. 
The  gentle  young  mother  looks  at  him  fondly;  Eliza- 
beth's kindly  face  is  lighted  by  an  admiring  smile  ; 
and  the  sturdy  little  Baptist  is  delighted  with  his 
cousin.  Even  the  angels  of  heaven  look  on  with  re- 
joicing, their  baby  forms  floating  in  a  golden  light 
in  the  upper  air. 

In  our  previous  pictures  it  has  been  interesting  to 
trace  the  source  of  the  artist's  material.  In  some  of 
his  works,  like  the  Immaculate  Conception,  he  seemed 
to  draw  his  ideal  from  his  own  imagination.  In 
others,  like  the  Madonna  and  Child,  he  evidently 
painted  the  peasants  of  his  own  country  very  nuu-h 
as  they^ere.  Again,  in  the  picture  of  Jesus  and 
John,  we  have  seen  how  he  could  take  ordinarv 
people  about  him  and  transform  them  into  ideal 
types. 

Now,  in  this  picture  of  the  Holy  Family  we  see 
two  methods  of  work  combined.  The  children  are 
ideal  figures,  suggested,  no  doul)t,  by  some  in  real 
life,  but  made  more  beautiful.  On  the  other  han<l, 
the  two  mothers  seem  like  ])ortraits  painted  directly 
from  Andalusian  peasants.  Mary  has  a  sweet,  gentle 
face,  quite  in  keeping  with  tlu^  character  of  the 
Virgin.     Elizabeth's  strong,  wrinkled  visage  accords 


60  MURILLO 

perfectly  with  our  conception  of  John's  mother.  The 
two  women  are  as  strongly  contrasted  as  the  chil- 
dren. The  one  carries  on  her  countenance  the  story 
of  a  life's  experience,  while  the  other  has  the  fresh 
young  smile  of  one  on  the  threshold  of  life. 

We  may  find  Elizabeth's  face  in  other  pictures 
by  Murillo,  as  in  the  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds, 
and  amono'  the  sick  folk  about  St.  Elizabeth  of 
Hungary. 

The  composition  is  in  the  painter's  favorite  style, 
the  pyramid,  crowned  at  the  apex  with  the  head 
of  the  child  Jesus.  The  figfure  of  the  Father  in  the 
upper  air  is  also  outlined  in  the  same  form  as  a  sort 
of  enclosing  pyramid. 


XI 


THE    FRUIT    VENDERS 

The  old  province  of  Andalusia  has  been  called 
the  "Eden  of  Spain."  It  is  a  fertile  valley  watered 
by  the  Guadalquivir  River,  and  in  this  southern  cli- 
mate the  rich  soil  yields  abundantly.  Even  without 
much  cultivation  the  country  on  either  side  the  river 
has  an  almost  tropical  vegetation.  Wheat  and  maize 
ripen  in  April  ;  olives  and  oranges,  grapes  and 
lemons  flourish  luxuriantly.  It  is  perhaps  best  de- 
scribed in  the  old  Bible  phrase  as  "  a  land  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey." 

In  its  heyday  of  prosperity,  when  methods  of  irri- 
gation were  employed,  the  country  might  be  likened 
to  on**  own  southern  California.  It  was  covered 
with  rich  vineyards  and  olive  orchards,  the  products 
of  which  were  sent  to  all  parts  of  the  world. 

Those  who  live  in  the  more  rigorous  climate  of 
the  north  have  little  idea  how  delicious  and  beauti- 
ful is  the  fruit  of  these  southern  countries.  The 
tropical  fruits  sold  in  northern  cities  are  gathered  in 
their  native  land  while  still  green,  and  ripen  during 
their  journey  northward.  They  thus  lose  altogether 
the  peculiar  rich  flavor  which  they  have  when  ripened 
in  the  natural  way.  Of  what  the  grapes  and 
oranges  of  Andalusia  are  we  have  some  faint  notion 


62  MURILLO 

from  readino-  about  them.  A  world-\\4de  fame 
attaches  to  the  gTapes  of  Midaga.  grown  iu  this  pro- 
vince. 

In  Murillo's  time  the  eitv  of  Seville  was  a  o-reat 
fruit  market  for  the  peasants  of  the  country  round 
about.  The  streets  were  full  of  venders  bearino- 
their  precious  wares  in  large  straw  baskets,  and 
calluig  them  aloud  as  they  went.  Many  of  these 
were  children  who  could  be  spared  from  the  farm 
better  than  those  who  were  strong-  enouo'li  to  work 
in  the  vinevards.  Their  fresh  vouno-  voices  and 
■«-innino-  wavs  made  them  o-ood  salesmen. 

Such  are  the  girl  and  boy  of  our  picture,  who 
have  met  bv  the  wavside  bevond  the  citv.  The  oul 
has  had  o-ood  luck  to-dav.  Settino-  forth  earlv  in 
the  morniug.  she  sold  her  fruit  in  a  few  hours ;  and 
is  alreadv  on  her  wav  back  to  her  villao-e  home,  when 
she  meets  the  bov  iust  enterino-  the  citv.  The  two 
hail  each  other  o-ailv  :  tlie  bov  sets  down  his  basket, 
and  the  o-ii-l.  drawino-  tlie  coins  from  the  monev  basT 
hanging  at  her  side,  counts  them  from  one  hand 
into  the  other.  This  is  a  quiet  spot  in  the  shadow 
of  a  ruined  wall,  where  they  are  not  likely  to  be  dis- 
turbed. It  is.  in  fact,  the  verv  place  where  the 
street  children  come  to  plav  dice,  and  the  flat  stone 
here  makes  a  comfortable  seat. 

The  girl  has  a  capable  look,  as  if  she  bore  on  her 
young  shoulders  some  of  the  familv  cares.  Her  hair 
is  tidily  brushed  and  knotted  at  the  back  in  a  coil 
which  hes  in  the  pretty  curve  of  her  neck.  She 
would  not  be  thought  pretty,  but  has  a  rather  plain, 


Fr.  Buiistaengl,  photo. 


John  Andrew  Jt  bon,  be. 


THE   FRUIT    VENDERS 
Munich  Gallery 


THE   FRUIT   A^ENDERS  65 

serious  face.  But  it  is  such  a  sensible  face  that  we 
like  it  for  what  it  reveals  of  her  character.  She  is 
evidently  a  good  little  business  woman. 

The  boy  takes  a  generous  pleasure  in  his  com- 
panion's good  fortune.  There  is  not  a  trace  of 
envy  in  his  good-natured  face,  as  he  bends  over  the 
girl's  open  palm  and  gazes  at  the  coin  with  innocent 
delight.  There  seems  to  be  somethino-  a  little  un- 
usual  in  the  day's  transactions.  Perhaps  some 
wealthy  purchaser,  struck  by  the  girl's  modest  de- 
meanor, added  an  extra  coin  to  the  price  of  the  fruit. 
It  may,  indeed,  have  been  some  foreign  traveller, 
who  gave  her  a  strange  coin  of  his  own  country. 

The  children  seem  to  belong  to  the  better  peasant 
class,  whose  thrift  and  industry  contribnte  so  much 
to  the  prosperity  of  the  country.  They  are  in  direct 
contrast  to  the  vasfabond  element  we  have  seen  in 
the  picture  of  the  Dice  Players.  As  they  count  the 
coins  they  are  perhaps  thinking  of  all  the  good 
things  they  will  buy.  One  would  like  to  know  how 
Spanish  peasant  children  of  the  seventeenth  century 
would  spend  their  money.  Not  for  books  and  toys 
and  sweets,  certainly,  such  as  tempt  the  children  of 
to-day. 

Except  the  broken  shoes,  which  are  doubtless 
w^orn  for  comfort  rather  than  by  necessity,  the  girl's 
clothes  are  very  neat  and  well  made.  Her  sleeves 
are  rolled  back  to  the  elbow,  and  her  skirt  is  care- 
fully turned  up  to  save  it  from  the  dust  of  the  road. 
The  bodice  is  low,  and  shows  the  fine  curve  of  her 
neck  and  shoulder.     She  has  a  pretty  ear,  a  feature 


66  MURILLO 

which  many  do  not  notice,  but  which  painters  are 
sure  to  observe. 

We  see  that  the  two  figures  are  so  arranged  that 
the  lines  enclosing  the  group  form  a  pyramidal  com- 
position like  those  we  have  noted  in  other  pictures 
of  our  collection.  Murillo's  groups  are  all  so  simj^ly 
and  naturally  arranged  that  they  seem  to  have  been 
placed  without  thought.  This  is  the  way  in  which 
"  art  conceals  art,"  as  the  saying  is.  In  reality  the 
painter  was  very  painstaking  in  his  work,  and  care- 
fully observed  the  principles  of  composition. 


XII 

THE    VISION    OF    ST.    ANTHONY 

St.  Anthony  of  Pad  iia  was  a  Franciscan  friar  who 
lived  in  the  thirteenth  century.  He  was  a  Portu- 
guese by  birth,  and  was  in  Lisbon  when  he  lieard  of 
the  martvrdoni  of  some  Christian  missionaries  in 
Africa.  This  fired  him  with  ambition  to  enuilate 
their  example.  His  career  as  a  foreign  missionary 
was,  however,  cut  short  by  illness,  so  he  returned  to 
Europe  and  came  to  Italy. 

On  account  of  his  great  intellectual  gifts  he  was 
advised,  by  St.  Francis,  tlie  founder  of  the  order,  to 
devote  himself  to  scholarly  pursuits.  He  became  a 
university  lecturer,  and  taught  divinity  at  Bologna, 
Toulouse,  Paris,  and  Padua.  In  later  years  iie  de- 
voted  himself  entirely  to  preaching,  and  went  about 
the  country  among  the  people.  His  ehxpience  and 
persuasive  powers  drew  crowds  to  hear  him,  and  he 
generally  preached  in  the  open  air. 

Everywhere  he  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  poor,  and 
wherever  there  was  tyranny  and  oppression  he  boldlv 
denounced  it.  He  was  a  man  of  tender  heart  and 
gentle  character,  fond  of  flowers  and  all  living  crea- 
tures. His  good  deeds  and  kindly  influence  made 
him  greatly  beloved  by  his  p(H)ple.  Worn  out  by 
liis  arduous  labors,  he  died  at  the  age  ol"  thirty-six, 


68  MURILLO 

and  was  buried  in  the  city  of  Padua,  There  a 
splendid  shrine  holds  liis  remains,  in  the  church 
built  in  his  honor. 

Amono"  many  stories  of  St=  Anthony's  life,  there 
is  one  which  is  repeated  oftener  than  any  other.  It 
relates  that  at  one  time,  when  the  preacher  was  ex- 
pounding- to  his  hearers  the  mystery  of  Christ's  birth, 
the  infant  Christ  himself  appeared  to  him  in  a  yision. 
This  story  had  a  peculiar  attraction  for  Murillo.  The 
Franciscans  were  his  chief  patrons,  and  in  his  work 
for  them  he  had  occasion  to  paint  the  Yision  of  St. 
Anthony  in  nine  different  pictures.  Our  illustration 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  these. 

The  yision  here  takes  place  in  the  open  air,  as  if 
in  some  spot  where,  according  to  custom,  the  saint 
had  been  preaching.  But  the  people  haye  now  dis- 
persed, and  the  yision  is  for  the  preacher  alone.  A 
broad  ray  of  hght  streams  from  heayen  to  earth  and 
illumines  the  distant  landscape.  Along  this  golden 
pathway  descends  the  blessed  Christ  child,  accom- 
panied by  a  host  of  angels.  The  saint  falls  on  his 
knees  before  the  yision.  and  o-athers  the  babe  into 
his  encirclino'  arms. 

The  little  yisitor  has  come  to  bring  some  message 
of  comfort,  and  he  lays  his  hand  caressingly  upon 
St.  Anthony's  cheek.  Tlie  rosy  face  is  pressed 
against  the  pale,  austere  countenance  of  the  friar. 
The  holy  man  does  not  presume  to  clasp  the  child 
to  his  heart  in  close  embrace.  He  holds  him  reyer- 
ently  in  his  arm>;.  the  fine  face  lighted  by  a  smile  of 
perfect  happiness.     In  this   moment  of  ecstasy  ail 


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Art  Noon  Club 
Will  Hear  Talk 
on  Graphic  Art 

Mrs.  Sydney  Absalom  Temple, 
Art  Noon  Club  chairman,  will  wel- 
come members  and  friends  at  the 
luncheon  Tuesday,  April  16,  at  the 
Women's  Athletic  Club. 

"The  major  theme  of  the  meet- 
ing," she  announces,  "will  be  'Print 
Makers,  Print  Collectors  and  Print 
Collections,'  tying  In  with  the  print 
committee  exhibition  showing  mas- 
terpieces of  graphic  art  from  the 
Ijessing  -  J.  Rosenwald  and  Edward 
G.  Robinson  collections." 

Arthur  Millier,  (art  critic  of  The 
Times,  will  discuss  "The  Progress  of 
Graphic  Ait  From  the  Fifteenth  to 
the  Twentieth  Centuries." 

Guests  will  include  Orra  E.  Mon- 
nette,  president  of  the  Los  Angeles 
Library  Board;  the  French  Consul, 
M.  Lionel  Vasse,  and  the  British 
Consul,  W.  M.  Giu:ney. 


THE   VISION   OF   ST.    ANTHONY  71 

his  toils  and  privations  are  forgotten ;  he  has  his  rich 
reward. 

St.  Anthony  wears  the  dress  of  the  Franciscan 
order,  a  dark  brown  tnnic  Avith  h)ng"  kjose  sleeves. 
A  scanty  cape  falls  from  the  shoulders,  and  to  this 
is  attached  a  hood  to  be  drawn  over  the  head.  The 
tunic  is  fastened  about  the  waist  watli  a  knotted  cord, 
which  represents  symbolically  a  halter.  The  Fran- 
ciscan idea  of  the  body  is  as  a  beast  which  must  be 
subdued,  and  the  brothers  are  taught  severe  self- 
denial.  The  top  of  the  head  is  shaven,  leaving-  a 
surrounding  circle  of  hair,  called  a  tonsure.  On  the 
feet  is  worn  a  sort  of  wooden  sandal. 

The  angels  seem  to  enter  into  the  s[)irit  of  the 
occasion  with  delight.  One  of  them  is  seated  on 
the  ground  holding  the  preacher's  book.  A  second 
stands  just  behind,  triumphantly  holding  uj)  a  lily 
stalk.  This  attracts  the  attention  of  his  companions 
in  the  upper  air,  one  of  whom  stretches  forth  an 
eager,  hand  to  grasp  it.  The  lily  is  an  end)lem 
almost  always  used  in  pictures  of  St.  Anthony.  It 
is  peculiarly  appropriate,  because  he  was  a  lover  of 
flow^ers  and  used  to  preach  of  the  lilies  of  the  field. 
Its  whiteness  typifies  the  purity  of  his  saintly  life. 

In  artistic  qualities  there  are  various  points  of  re- 
semblance betw^een  this  picture  and  the  picture  of 
Jesus  and  John.  In  both,  the  figures  are  grouped 
in  a  pyramidal  composition  which  nearly  fills  the  ob- 
lons:  canvas.  In  both  the  lio-ht  comes  from  a  break 
in  the  clouds  to  flood  the  important  ])art  of  the  pic- 
ture.    The   lovely   conception    of   the   baby   angels 


s 


72  MURILLO 

looking  down   out  of  heaven  is  repeated  in  the  two 
pictures,  as,  indeed,  in  many  other  works. 

Besides  these  technical  resemblances,  what  is  some- 
times called  the  "  feeling-  "  of  the  pictures  is  similar. 
Both  are  in  the  most  refined  and  delicate  vein  which 
Murillo's  art  commanded.  These  two  ideals  of 
the  Christ  child  are  the  highest  which  the  painter 
achieved. 

Note.  —  An  account  of  the  life  of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua  is  giveo 
in  Mrs.  Jameson's  "  Legends  of  the  Monastic  Orders,"  page  292. 


XIII 

ST.    RODERICK 

A  STRANGE  and  troublous  period  in  the  history  of 
Spain  was  during  the  seven  hundred  years  when  the 
country  was  in  the  possession  of  the  Moors.  This 
was  a  time  extendino*  from  the  eighth  to  the  fifteenth 
centuries.  Previous  to  tliis,  Spain  liad  been  occu- 
pied by  the  Visigoths,  who  w^ere  Christians.  Then 
came  the  Arab  host,  sweeping  over  tlie  land  with 
irresistible  force,  and  all  but  two  provinces  were 
conquered. 

The  Moors  were  followers  of  the  JNIohammedan 
religion,  whose  founder  was  the  so-called  prophet 
Mohammed,  and  whose  sacred  book  was  the  Koran. 
These  Mohammedans,  Mussulmans,  or  Moslems,  as 
they  were  variously  called,  were  exceedingly  zealous 
in  their  faith,  and  tried  to  force  it  upon  the  people 
they  had  conquered.  The  difference  in  religions 
was  a  cause  of  continual  warfare  between  the  two 
races.  In  the  end,  the  Christians  drove  the  Moslems 
out  of  Spain,  but  only  after  a  long  and  fierce  strug- 
gle. The  Moslem  rulers  persecuted  their  subjects 
cruelly,  and  many  good  men  laid  down  their  lives  for 
the  faith.  One  of  the  Christian  martyrs  of  the  ninth 
century  was  St.  Roderick,  who  was  a  priest  of  Cor- 
dova. 


y 


74  MURILLO 

Now,  Cordova  was  the  capital  of  the  Moorish  em- 
pire in  Spain,  and  the  stronghold  of  Mohammedan- 
ism. Here  was  the  palace  of  the  caliph,  who  was 
the  temporal  and  spiritual  ruler  of  the  Moslems. 
Here,  also,  were  some  six  hundred  mosques,  as  the 
Mohammedan  churches  were  called.  It  fared  hard 
with  Christians  in  such  a  place. 

Roderick  was  one  of  three  brothers,  two  being 
Christians,  and  one  a  Mussulman.  One  night  when 
they  were  all  together,  Roderick's  Christian  brother 
and  the  Mussulman  began  quarrelling,  and  he  tried 
to  act  as  peacemaker.  His  interference  angered 
them,  and  they  fell  upon  him  so  fiercely  that  they 
nearly  killed  him.  Then  they  lied  from  the  spot, 
leaving  him,  as  they  supposed,  dead. 

The  Mohammedan  brother  now  spread  the  news 
that  Roderick  was  dead,  and  that  before  dying  he 
had  embraced  the  Moslem  faith.  This  false  report 
made  it  unsafe  for  Roderick  to  declare  himself  alive. 
He  had  no  mind  to  renounce  the  Christian  religion, 
but  had  he  appeared  in  the  streets  he  would  have 
been  greeted  as  a  Mussulman.  He  therefore  hid 
liimself  in  the  mountains  for  a  season.  It  happened 
one  day  that  descending  the  mountain  towards  Cor- 
dova, he  met  his  Mohammedan  brother.  The  un- 
natural wretch,  far  from  being  pleased  to  find  his 
supposed  victim  alive,  caused  him  to  be  cast  into 
prison.  The  offence  charged  against  him  was  that 
he  had  turned  from  Mohammedanism  to  Christianity, 
while,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  had  never  been  any- 
thing but  a  Christian. 


From  &  carbon  crmt  by  Braun,  (Jlement  j;  (jo. 


uu  .xuulvn   ^   ^wii,   0O> 


ST.  RODERICK 
Dresden  Gallery 


ST.    RODERICK  77 

The  consolation  of  his  imprisonment  was  the  com- 
panionship of  a  fellow  martyr,  St.  Salomon.  The 
two  became  fast  friends,  but  when  the  friendship 
between  them  was  observed  they  were  separated. 
Roderick  had  three  trials,  when  he  was  given  a 
chance  to  recant  his  faith.  As  he  did  not  falter  in 
his  lovalty  to  his  Christian  belief,  he  was  condemned 
to  death.  He  was  executed  iii  the  year  857,  and  his 
body  was  thrown  into  the  Guadalquivir  River. 

Murillo's  picture  is  an  imaginary  portrait  of  the 
good  St.  Roderick.  He  is  a  tall,  well-built  young 
man  with  the  dark  skin  of  the  Spanish  race.  He 
stands  in  priestly  garments  by  a  marble  pillar,  at  the 
angle  of  a  balcony.  His  face  is  lifted,  and  he  seems 
to  look  "  steadfastly  into  heaven,"  like  the  first 
martyr,  Stephen.  One  wonders  if,  like  that  early 
hero,  he  sees  there  "  the  glory  of  God." 

The  oentle  face  shows  the  sufferinof  of  one  who 
has  found  life's  burdens  hard  to  l)ear.  A  small 
circular  wound  in  his  throat  indicates  the  manner  of 
his  death.  On  his  left  arm  he  bears  the  palm  which 
is  the  emblem  of  martyrdom.  In  the  vision  of 
heaven  described  in  the  book  of  Revelation  a  ofreat 
multitude  of  people  are  seen  bearing  palms  in  their 
hands.  One  of  the  Elders  explains  that  "  these  are 
thev  which  came  out  of  ""reat  tribulation."  '  This 
is  why  a  painter,  representing-  a  Christian  martyr, 
places  a  palm  in  his  hand  to  show  that  he  "came  out 
of  great  tribulation." 

The  richly  em])roidered  chasuble,  as  the  vesture 

^  Revelation,  chapter  vii.,  verses  9  and  14. 


78  MURILLO 

is  called,  which  St.  Roderick  wears,  deserves  special 
attention  because  of  its  history.  Murillo  painted  it 
from  a  real  garment  in  the  Seville  cathedral,  where  it 
is  still  shown  to  the  visitor.  Down  the  centre  of  the 
front  runs  a  wide  strip  of  embroidery  in  which  three 
ornamental  medallions  are  wrought.  The  central 
one  represents  the  apostle  Paul  with  the  sword  which 
is  the  emblematic  attribute  of  that  apostle.  The 
third  shows  St.  Andrew  with  the  laro-e  cross  on 
which  he  was  crucified. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this  chasuble  was 
ever  worn  by  the  real  St.  Roderick.  It  probably 
belonged  to  a  certain  canon  of  Seville,  for  whom 
Murillo  painted  the  picture.  The  canon  would 
naturally  be  pleased  to  have  so  beautiful  a  vesture 
immortalized,  and  it  was,  besides,  an  honor  to  the 
memory  of  St.  Roderick  to  array  him  so  magnifi- 
cently. 

Note.  —  An  account  of  the  life  of  St.  Roderick  is  given  in  the 
"  Dictionnaiie  Ilagiographiqne  on  Vie  des  Saints  et  des  Bienheureux,'' 
hy  M.  rAbh(^  Pi^tin,  Paris,  1848. 


XIV 
youth's  head 

It  sometimes  happens  that  in  a  large  company  of 
people,  such  as  might  be  gathered  in  the  streets  of  a 
great  city,  some  face  in  the  crowd  catches  the  eye 
and  holds  it  with  a  sino-ular  fascination.  There  are 
dozens  of  commonplace  folk  about,  and  among  them 
all  this  one  seems  like  a  denizen  of  another  sphere. 
Tliere  is  a  haunting  quality  in  the  face  which  makes 
us  remember  it  a  lono-  time. 

Now,  the  face  of  the  youth  in  our  picture  has  just 
this  peculiar  quality.  Tliough  quite  unprepossessing 
in  its  features  it  attracts  our  notice  at  once.  Per- 
haps on  some  great  gala  day,  when  the  streets  of 
Seville  were  full  of  people,  Murillo  suddenly  saw  it 
in  the  crowd.  It  so  possessed  his  fancy  tliat  he 
could  not  rest  till  he  had  put  it  on  canvas,  and  here 
it  still  remains  to  exercise  its  stranofe  charm. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  face  quite  out  of  the  ordinary. 
Compare  it  a  moment  with  the  Boy  at  the  Window- 
in  one  of  our  previous  illustrations.'  At  the  first 
glance  at  that  mischievous  little  face,  Ave  begin  to 
wonder  where  we  have  seen  a  boy  just  like  him. 
We  may  not  be  aide  to  recall  his  exact  coiuiterpart, 
but  he  is  what  we  call  a  common  type.     This  youth, 

^  {See  i)a8'e  l'>. 


80  MURILLO 

on  the  other  hand,  is  quite  unUke  any  one  we  have 
ever  seen.  His  personaUty  is  unique :  we  exclaim 
at  once,  What  a  singular  face  ! 

His  shaggy,  unkempt  locks  and  shy,  fawn-like 
eyes  suggest  some  wild  creature  of  the  woods.  The 
face  calls  to  mind  that  imaginary  being  of  the  old 
Greek  myths  called  a  faun,  "  neither  man  nor  anmial, 
and  yet  no  monster,  but  a  being  in  whom  both  races 
meet  on  friendly  ground."  It  Avill  be  remembered 
that  in  Hawthorne's  novel  of  the  "•  Marble  Faun  " 
there  was  a  character  named  Donatello,  who  gave  a 
smiilar  unpression.  One  of  his  peculiarities  was  to 
wear  his  hair  in  long  curls,  concealing  his  ears.  His 
friends  playfully  pretended  to  suspect  that  he  had 
the  pointed  ears  of  a  faun.  One  cannot  help  fancy- 
ing that,  could  we  brush  aside  this  youth's  long- 
locks,  we  might  find  faun's  ears. 

Setting  aside  such  fancies,  we  judge  that  this  is  a 
portrait  of  an  Andalusian  peasant.  It  is  described 
in  some  of  the  art  books  as  a  Herdsman  or  Shep- 
herd. Look  again  at  the  picture  of  the  Adoration 
of  the  Shepherds,  and  pick  out  the  figure  of  the 
shepherd  leading  a  lamb.  You  may  see  a  far-away 
resemblance  between  that  head  and  this. 

The  face  is  not  at  all  intellectual,  and  we  fancy 
that  the  youth  is  alike  slow  of  wit  and  slow  of 
tongue.  Apparently  he  belongs  to  that  class  of 
oddly  balanced  minds  which  produces  botli  the 
genius  and  the  fool.  The  old-time  phrase  ''  God's 
fool  "  perhaps  best  describes  those  puzzling  natures 
who  fail  to  grasp  worldly  wisdom,  but  have  so  much 


Prom  a  carbon  print  by  Draun,  Clement  i  Co. 


John  Andrew  4  Son,  80. 


YOUTH'S    HEAD 
Hague  Museum 


YOUTH'S   HEAD  83 

wisdom  of  another  kind.  Such  characters  are  pos- 
sessed of  the  gift  of  eternal  cliildhood  :  one  can 
never  tell  how  old  they  are.  Like  children,  too,  they 
are  impulsive  and  affectionate.  They  often  show  a 
touching-  fidelity  in  their  attachments.  There  is, 
indeed,  a  strong  vein  of  pathos  in  such  lives. 

Our  youth  is,  we  suspect,  one  of  Nature's  poets. 
His  expression  is  of  one  who  has  lived  alone  with 
his  flocks,  far  from  the  haunts  of  men.  It  is  full  of 
poetic  feeling.  Not,  indeed,  that  he  is  gifted  with 
any  power  of  expression,  but  he  has  the  poet's 
capacity  for  enjoying  beauty.  His  long  days  under 
the  open  sky  have  filled  him  with  a  sense  of  the 
mystery  of  life. 

One  is  reminded  of  that  '•  herdsman  on  the  lonely 
mountain  tops,"  of  Avhom  Wordsworth  writes  in  the 
"  Excursion."  The  poet  tells  us  that  the  youth's 
wdiole  being  was  possessed  by  the  beauty  of  nature. 
He  is  described  as  standing  on  some  bold  headland, 
whence 

"he  beheld  the  sun 
Rise  np  and  bathe  the  world  in  light  !     He  looked  ! 
Ocean  and  earth,  the  solid  frame  of  earth 
And  ocean's  liquid  mass,  beneath  him  lay 
In  gladness  and  deep  joy.     The  clouds  were  touched, 
And  in  their  silent  faces  did  he  read 
Unntterable  love.     Sound  needed  none, 
Nor  any  voice  of  joy;  liis  spirit  drank 
The  spectacle:  sensation,  soul,  and  form, 
All  melted  into  him." 

We  must  understand  that  only  a  great  painter 
could  make  a  portrait  of  such  a  head  a  real  work  of 
art  like    this.     The    features  are  irregular  and   ill 


84  MURILLO 

formed,  and  in  another  position  the  contour  of  the 
face  might  be  very  ugly.  To  overcome  these  diffi- 
culties required  much  skill.  The  pose  here  is  par- 
ticularly good.  It  makes  a  pleasing  outline  for  the 
composition,  and  it  expresses  admirably  the  poetic 
sentiment  of  the  face.  What  is  most  remarkable 
about  the  picture  is  that  the  painter  has  caught  in 
the  expression  that  haunting  quality  which  is  so 
subtle  and  transient  in  real  life. 


XV 


ST.    ELIZABETH    OF    HUNGARY 

(^The  Leper) 

There  was  once  a  princess  of  Hungary,  named 
Elizabeth,  who  was  celebrated  for  her  beauty  and 
goodness.  She  had  ''  a  tall,  slender  figure,  a  clear 
brown  complexion,  large  dark  eyes,  and  hair  as  black 
as  nio'ht."  She  was  married  at  the  agf'e  of  fifteen 
to  Prince  Louis,  the  son  of  the  landgrave  of  Thu- 
ringia.  They  lived  together  in  the  Castle  of  Wart- 
burg,  on  a  steep  rock  outside  the  town  of  Eisenach. 

In  her  early  childhood,  Elizabeth  was  devoted  to 
deeds  of  charity,  and  used  to  save  food  from  her 
own  meals  to  carry  to  the  poor.  After  her  marriage 
h^r  Imbits  of  self-denial  were  redoubled.  Often  at 
royal  feasts  she  contented  herself  with  a  crust  of 
bread  and  a  cup  of  water.  Her  husband  was  proud 
of  his  wife's  piety,  and  sympathized  with  all  her 
benevolent  plans.  His  mother  and  sister,  however, 
bitterly  opposed  them,  and  in  the  prince's  absence 
Elizabeth  had  much  to  suffer. 

At  length  there  was  a  famine  in  the  land,  and  it 
was  Elizabeth's  benevolence  and  wisdom  which  saved 
the  lives  of  the  people.  She  divided  the  corn  and 
bread  into  portions,  so  that  the  supply  lasted  through 
the  summer  till  harvest-time.     The  famine  was  fol 


86  MURILLO 

lowed  by  a  great  plague,  and  to  meet  this  new  emer- 
gency Elizabeth  founded  hospitals  in  Eisenach.  She 
exhausted  the  treasury  and  sold  all  her  own  robes 
and  jewels  to  pay  for  these.  She  herself,  with  her 
court  ladies,  daily  visited  the  hospitals,  waiting  upon 
the  sick  with  her  own  hands. 

It  is  in  this  labor  of  love  that  our  picture  repre- 
sents the  saintly  princess.  She  stands  beside  a  large 
basin  on  a  platform  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
patients.  A  leprous  boy  bends  over  the  basin  while 
her  deUcate  hands  bathe  the  sores  on  his  head.  It 
is  this  figure  which  gives  the  Spanish  name  to  the 
picture.  El  Tinoso,  the  Leper.  On  the  opposite  side 
another  leper  w^aits  his  turn,  removing  the  plaster 
from  his  head  with  a  wry  face.  A  cripple  is  just 
hobbling  off  in  the  rear,  and  a  man  sits  in  front  un- 
doino'  the  bandasre  from  his  \eg;.  An  old  crone  sit- 
ting  on  the  edge  of  the  platform  raises  her  face  to 
St.  Elizabeth,  with  a  pathetic  expression. 

The  ladies  who  attend  the  princess  do  not  con- 
eea\  their  aversion  to  the  loathsome  task,  but  there 
is  no  sisfn  of  shrinkino-  in  their  mistress.  Her  face 
has  a  heavenlv  calm  as  the  face  of  an  anoel.  She  is 
dressed  in  the  robes  of  a  nun  Avith  a  crown  worn 
over  the  veil.  The  sleeves  are  rolled  back  and  show 
the  shapely  hands  and  wrists.  The  face  has  lost  the 
brilliancy  of  its  early  beauty,  and  has  grown  pale 
and  austere  from  long  self-denial.  The  once  splen- 
did hair  is  concealed  under  the  veil.  But  the  fea- 
tures are  cast  in  an  aristocratic  mould,  and  the  poise 
of  the   head  is  that  of  a  queen.     The   noble  soul 


from  \  cartn,,,  print  Ij  Bii^n.  Clement  i  Co. 


Juiiu  Auiirew  i  buu.  So. 


ST.  ELIZABETH    OF   HUNGARY  — "THE   LEFEK' 
Royal  Academy  oj  I'inc  Arts,  Madrid 


ST.  elizabp:th  of  Hungary  89 

shining"  through  the  face  gives  it  a  moral  beauty 
whicli  is  deeply  impressive.  There  is  a  German 
poem  describing  St.  EUzabeth's  visits  to  the  hospitals, 
some  lines  of  which  seem  to  apply  with  peculiar  ap- 
propriateness to  our  picture  :  — 

"  The  poor  cripple  (ofttimes  scoru'd  and  vex'd), 
The  idiots  by  their  painful  lot  perplex'd,  — 
These,  who  found  scoffs  and  shame  tlieir  bitter  part, 
Were  still  the  dearest  to  her  pious  heart  ; 
They  hung  upon  her  robe  with  joyous  cries, 
And  gazed  with  love  into  her  loving  eyes, 
The  sick  and  dying  when  she  strove  to  cheer, 
Through  the  long  room  the  cry  I'ose,  '  Here  !  oh,  here  !* 
With  tender  care  their  wounds  she  drest. 
And  laid  the  suffering  to  i-est  ; 

With  softest  words  she  calm'd  th'  impatient  mood  ; 
And  if  the  handmaids  who  around  her  stood 
Sought  in  her  ministry  to  share, 
The  sick  would  suffer  only  her  sweet  care. 
And  her  fair  hands  were  kiss'd,  her  name  was  blest."  ' 

Our  picture  shows  that  the  painter's  art  ranged  all 
the  way  from  strict  realism  to  pure  idealism.  The 
figures  of  the  sick  are  so  real  that  one  almost  turns 
away  from  them  in  disgust,  as  from  scenes  of  actual 
suffering.  On  tlie  other  hand,  the  princess  is  a 
purely  ideal  creation  ;  only  from  his  own  imagina- 
tion could  the  painter  have  drawn  such  a  figure. 
The  strong  moral  effect  of  the  picture  is  produced 
by  this  contrast.  Elizabeth's  spiritual  beauty  is 
heightened  by  the  rcpulsiveness  of  her  surroundings. 
The  abruptness  of  the  contrast  is  modified  l)y  the 
figures  of  the  attendant  ladies.     They  form  a  con- 

1  Translated  from  the  German  of  Wolf  von  Goethe  by   Adelaide 
Procter. 


90  MURILLO 

necting-   link   between  the  ugliness  of  the  patients 
and  the  beauty  of  Elizabeth. 

The  portico  opens  out  of  doors  at  one  side,  and 
under  a  covered  porch  in  the  distance  Elizabeth  is 
again  seen  serving  a  company  of  the  poor  at  table. 
This  distant  view  serves  an  important  artistic  pur- 
pose. It  not  only  furnishes  light  for  the  compo- 
sition, but  gives  an  effect  of  spaciousness. 

St.  Elizabeth  of  Hungary  is  one  of  a  series  of 
eleven  pictures  painted  by  Murillo  to  adorn  the 
church  connected  with  the  Charity  Hospital  in 
Seville.  The  subjects  were  all  chosen  for  their  ap- 
propriateness to  the  place.  The  work  was  done  in 
the  later  -years  of  his  life,  and  was  among  his  noblest 
productions.  A  critic  has  said  that  "  for  grandeur 
of  style,  harmony  of  color,  and  grace  of  composition, 
it  would  be  difficult  to  name  an  equal  number  of 
pictures  by  any  artist  that  could  surpass  them."  ^ 

The  life  of  St.  Elizabeth  had  a  sad  ending.  Her 
husband  went  to  the  Crusades  and  died  in  a  foreign 
land.  His  family  cast  her  out  of  the  castle,  and  she 
and  her  children  wandered  about  as  exiles.  At 
lenoth  she  entered  the  order  of  St.  Francis,  and 
spent  her  declining  years  in  ministry  to  lepers. 

1  C.  3.  Curtis. 

Note.  —  An  account  of  the  life  of  St.  Elizabeth  of  Hniiorary  is  con- 
tained in  Mrs.  Jameson's  "  Legends  of  the  Monastic  Orders,"  page 
309. 


XVI 

THE    PORTRAIT    OF    MURILLO 

The  painter  Murillo  Avas  what  we  call  in  oui 
country  a  "  self-made  man."  Being-  left  an  ()q)han 
before  he  was  eleven  years  old,  he  was  jipprenticed 
at  an  early  age  to  his  uncle,  the  painter,  Juan  del 
Castillo.  The  boy  was  an  apt  pnpil,  but  even  when 
he  had  learned  all  his  master  could  teacli  him,  he 
was  far  from  beino"  an  artist.  For  a  few  years  he 
earned  a  scanty  livelihood  by  painting  cheap  pictures 
to  sell  in  the  market-})lace.  Then  came  a  turning- 
point  in  his  life  in  this  wise. 

A  young  man  named  Pedro  da  Moya,  who  had 
once  been  a  fellow  student  with  Murillo  in  Castillo's 
studio,  A'eturned  to  Seville  after  six  montlis'  study 
under  the  Flemish  painter  Van  Dyck.  INlurillo  saw 
with  astonishment  and  envy  how  wonderfully  his  ohl- 
time  companion  had  im])rove(l.  A  new  worUl  of  art 
was  opened  to  him  in  the  cojiies  of  Van  Dyck's 
paintings  which  the  traveller  had  brought  home. 
He  straightway  rc^solved  that  he,  too,  would  go  out 
into  the  world  to  learn  the  seci-ets  of  great  art. 

Rome  was  the  object  of  his  pilgrimage,  but  IJome 
was  a  lono"  distance  from  Seville,  and  IMunllo  had 
no  money.  The  young  man  was.  however,  too  much 
in   earnest    to    let   any    difticultios    discourage    him. 


92  MURILLO 

Keeping  bis  own  counsel,  he  procured  a  piece  of 
linen,  cut  it  into  squares,  painted  the  squares  with 
bright  i)ictures,  and  by  selling  the  lot  obtained 
money  enough  for  his  immediate  needs.  This  was 
all  he  wanted.  He  was  young  and  courageous,  and 
he  set  forth  at  once  on  foot  towards  the  royal  city 
of  Madrid. 

It  was  a  long  and  tedious  journey,  and  there  were 
mountains  to  cross,  but  he  came  at  last  to  the  great 
city.  He  had  intended  to  make  Madrid  only  a  stop- 
ping-place on  his  longer  journey  to  Rome,  but  cir- 
cumstances now  changed  his  mind.  The  court 
painter,  Velasquez,  himself  an  Andalusian  by  birth, 
offered  his  young  countryman  a  home.  There  were 
plenty  of  great  pictures  to  see  in  the  royal  galleries, 
and  Murillo  gladly  accepted  the  offer. 

He  now  devoted  himself  to  studying  some  of  the 
masterpieces,  making  copies  of  many  of  the  works 
of  Ribera,  Van  Dyck,  and  Velasquez.  In  this  way 
he  progressed  so  well  that  he  thought  no  more  of 
Rome.  At  the  end  of  three  years  he  felt  himself 
ready  to  return  to  Seville  and  begin  his  career.  We 
have  already  seen  how  he  had  an  opportunity  to 
prove  his  ability,  in  the  decoration  of  a  Francis- 
can church  in  Seville.  From  that  time  forward 
he  had  never  an  idle  moment.  His  life  was  full  of 
activity. 

He  was  a  man  of  gentle,  winning  nature,  whom 
everybody  loved.  He  took  his  honors  simply,  and 
had  no  ambition  to  extend  his  fame  beyond  the  bor- 
ders of  his  native  citv.     He  loved  his  own  country 


THE    PORTRAIT   OF   MURILLO  93 

and  liis  own  people  with  passionate  loyalty.  Above 
all  thing's  else  he  was  a  man  of  sincere  piety. 

We  do  not  know  many  of  the  details  of  his  private 
life,  except  that  he  was  married  in  1G48,  and  had 
two  sons  and  a  daughter.  When  the  children  o'rew 
up  they  begged  their  father  to  paint  them  a  portrait 
of  himself.  This  is  the  picture  which  we  have  for 
our  frontispiece.  The  Latin  inscription  on  the  scroll 
below  records  the  circumstances  of  its  painting. 

We  are  glad  to  look  into  the  kindly  face  of  the 
great  painter.  He  is  by  no  means  a  handsome  man, 
and  the  features  are  rather  coarse  and  heavv.  He 
came  from  the  common  people  whom  he  loved,  and 
there  seems  to  have  been  nothing  of  the  aristocrat 
in  his  make-up.  Yet  the  fine  high  brow  shows  that 
this  is  not  an  ordinary  man. 

His  bearing  and  expression  are  those  of  a  man 
past  his  prime,  who  has  made  a  success  of  life.  He 
shows  the  dio-nitv  aud  modest  self-satisfaction  to 
whidi  he  is  entitled.  Painted  as  it  was  for  his  own 
family,  the  portrait  represents  Murillo  as  he  wished 
to  be  remembered  by  those  who  knew  and  loved  him. 


PRONOUNCING  VOCABULARY  OF  PROPER  NAMES 
AND  FOREIGN   WORDS 


The  Diacritical  Mark.s  given  are  those  fouud  in  tlie  latest  edition  of  Webster's  Inter 
national  Dictionary. 

EXPLANATION   OF   DIACRITICAL   MARKS. 

A  Dash  (")  above  the  vowel  denotes  the  long  sound,  as  in  fate,  eve,  time,  note,  use. 

A  Dash  and  a  Dot  C)  above  the  vowel  denote  the  same  sound,  less  prolonged. 

A  Curve  (")  above  tlie  vowel  denotes  the  short  sound,  as  in  5dd,  5nd,  111,  Odd,  tip. 

A  Dot  (■ )  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  obscure  .sound  of  a  in  past,  abate,  America 

A  Double  Dot  (   )  above  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  broad  .sound  of  a  in  father,  alms. 

A  Double  Dot  (..)  below  the  vowel  a  denotes  the  sound  of  a  in  ball. 

A  Wave  (~)  above  the  vowel  e  denotes  the  sound  of  e  in  her. 

A  Circuratiex  Accent  C")  above  the  vowel  o  denotes  the  sound  of  o  in  b8rn. 

a  and  k  denote  the  guttural  sound  of  ch  in  German. 

N  indicates  that  the  preceding  vowel  has  the  French  nasal  tone. 

^-  sounds  like  s. 

€  sounds  like  k. 

§  sounds  like  z. 

g  is  hard  as  in  get. 

g  is  soft  as  in  gem. 


Alc;lli\  (iil  kii  lii'). 
Alnieria  (al  mil  re'a). 
Andalusia  (an  tl;V  Iim/zi  a). 

Bacclms  (bak'us). 

BSth'lehem. 

Bethu'61. 

Bologna  (bij  lon'j'a). 

Ca'tliz. 

calido  (ka'le  d.j). 

Castillo,  Juan   del   (huo  iin '  del  kiis 

tel'yH). 
Cor'dova. 
Corsini  (kor  .se'na). 

l)ief»-o  (de  a'^'o). 
Donatel'lo. 

Ecce  Agnus  l)ei  (ek'ke  ajj'nous  da'i'l. 
Eisenach  (i'zen  iiK). 


Elie'zgr. 
esttlo  (es  te'16). 

Franciscan  (fian  sis'kan). 

friu  (fre'6). 

Galile':in. 

<ienre  (zhiiNr). 

(ioethe.  Wolf  von  (volf  fon  ge'tu) 

(jrana'da. 

Guadahiuivir  (ga  d:ll  kwiv'Sr). 

Ilo'rel). 

lluelva  (wPl'vii). 
Ilunfjai-y  (liunt^'Ka  li). 

Jaen  (ha  en'). 
Joachim  (jo'ii  kini). 
.lusti  (h(77is'te). 

Ko'ran  (ur  kd  lan')- 


96 


MURILLO 


La'bAn. 

Lippi,  Filippo  (fj  lep'p6  lep'pfe). 

Lisbon  (liz'buu). 

Louvre  (lob'vr). 

Madrid  (mad  rid'). 

Mal'agci. 

Mohani'nied. 

Moslems  (moz'l§mz). 

Moya,  Pedro  da  (pa'dro  da  mo'ya). 

Murilio  (m<jb  rel'yo). 

Mussulinaus  (mus'sul  mdnz). 

Na'hor. 
Naz'arSth. 

Pad'ua. 

Perugino  (pil  rob  je'no). 

Portuguese  {por'tu  gez). 

Rebek'ah. 

Rembrandt  (rSm'brS,nt). 

Ribera  (re  ba'raj. 


Rossetti  (ros  s6t'te). 
Rubens  (rob'b§nz). 

pal'Omon. 

kjeiiorita  (san  yo  re'ta). 
JSeville  (s6  vil'). 

Stabat  Mater  Upeciosa  (sta'bat  ma'tar 
spe  ki  o'sii). 

Thiirin'^ia. 
Tiiioso  (ten  yo'so). 
Titian  (tish'An). 
Toulouse  (too  lobz'). 

Van  Dyck  (van  dlk')- 
vapor oso  (va  p6  rO'so). 
Velasquez  (va  las'kath). 
Visigoths  (viz'i  goths). 

Wartburg  (vart'boora). 

Zacharias  (zSk  a  ri'as). 


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EtC'U  LU-UKU 

:A     ]'.           'T"?^; 

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